


like a cigarette in the mouth or a handshake in the doorway

by zouee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Racial slurs, Roommates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouee/pseuds/zouee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i've been down across the road or two, but now i've found the velvet sun that shines on me and you // Zayn and Niall start living together</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> contrast  
> noun  
> ˈkɒntrɑːst/  
> 1.  
> the state of being strikingly different from something else in juxtaposition or close association.

⋆

It was on a Sunday when Liam left the apartment. Something about meeting up with family or to celebrate someone’s anniversary. Truth is, Zayn wasn’t attentively listening at all when Liam told him he was leaving.

Zayn didn’t care about where Liam had to go, didn’t care about how long he was going for, either - because now the apartment is silent; only the hum from the refrigerator and the traffic outside fills Zayn’s ears.

It’s suddenly chillier than it was before, the day outside is cold and blustery; a difference between the two weeks of almost uninterrupted sunshine. Yet, with Liam gone, the place still smells like him. And Zayn shouldn’t feel this empty from being alone, he _likes_ having alone time.

But as the day drags on and light becomes dark, it’s almost scary and unsafe and definitely not what Zayn wants in the slightest.

" _And if you feel alone, I’m sure sticking an ad in the paper for a temporary roommate won’t hurt. All these people in the city are surely desperate for a room they can pay half for_." Liam had said at the doorway. Zayn told him that won’t be happening, because nobody can replace you, Liam.

But now, as the wind echoes against the glass of the window in his bedroom, Zayn starts to think that maybe a little company won’t be bad at all.

⋆

He ends up sticking a small notice in the paper the next day, asking for a roommate indefinitely. It’s small, since the payment for a space anything bigger than a coin was too much and Zayn’s not _that_ desperate.

Besides, if nobody calls up he can always ask Harry and Louis to keep him company. Although Zayn’s not sure he’d like seeing them suck each other’s faces every waking hour of the day, either.

He collects his keys from the ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter and leaves the apartment for his day at the office, silently hoping by the end of this week he’ll have someone to come home to again.

⋆

The next day he wakes up at noon from the ringing of the phone echoing throughout the walls. It’s a few minutes before Zayn can pull himself up out of bed, dragging a hand over his face as he finally reaches the phone and picks it up.

“‘Ello?”

His voice is dry and husky from sleep, the word breaking halfway through.

"Hey! Did I just wake you up, man?" The Irish voice on the other end laughs and Zayn’s forehead creases, "Big night last night was it? Yeah, thought you woulda been the party type!"

"Eh, sorry?"

"Shit, sorry bro, my names Niall. Was callin’ ‘bout your ad in the paper? You need a roomie?" He asks, his voice a loud and bubbly contrast to Zayn’s tired and quiet one. "I’m livin’ ‘round here and to be honest it’s scary as fuck."

The boy, Niall, laughs and Zayn’s eyes widen - the realisation that someone actually read his ad. He manages to force out a small laugh and wake up a little.

"Yeah, man. I know what you mean. Uh," Zayn pauses, not entirely sure where he’s supposed to go with this, "did you wanna, uh, come check the place out, then?”

"Did ya wanna wake up first?" Niall asks, adding in a small chuckle. "I’ll come at night? That’s if you’re not goin’ out again!"

Zayn finds himself smiling when he replies, “Wanna come ‘round at seven?”

⋆

Zayn has a shower and makes sure the place is clean and looks appealing by the time the clock reaches five minutes to seven. He walks around the apartment, tapping his hands on the sides of his thighs, unsure whether or not to cook dinner or to answer the door straight away when he comes, or maybe he should change his outfit? Is it hot? Should he turn on the air conditioning?

Shit, he needs to chill.

Zayn takes in a breath and enters his bedroom, pulling out the draw beside his bed. He picks up the pouch and zips it open, revealing the grams of greens.

Shaking his head he zips it back up and slams the draw closed again before heading to the kitchen and putting on the kettle.

Then there’s a knock on the door.

Zayn’s stomach swoops and his nerves duplicate. He glances around the room once more to make sure there’s nothing misplaced or off-putting, and nods to himself before opening the door.

“‘Ey!”

The voice enters Zayn’s ears cheerfully, and Zayn’s eyebrows rise in wonder when he’s faced with a boy his height with dyed blonde hair and a smile that’s beaming at him as though Zayn’s a million dollars.

"Uh, hey. Niall, right?" Zayn asks as he holds out his hand. Niall nods and they shake hands at the doorway - Niall being a bit more enthused about it than Zayn.

"So, this it, then?" Niall says, strolling passed Zayn into the apartment. He looks around with a casual step in his walk; hands in his pockets with his thumbs poking out. He’s nodding slightly with his bottom lip folding briefly over his top, and then looks back at Zayn with bright eyes. "Good place yer got, innit?"

Zayn shrugs and shuts the door, “Good enough, yeah.”

Niall laughs and the room fills with it, “You know you’re supposed to be tryna sell it to me, yeah? Gotta be a bit more enthusiastic, probably.”

Zayn smiles at that, remembering how Liam always used to tell him the same thing.

"You want a drink? Or anything?" Zayn asks, already walking towards the kitchen.

Niall practically throws himself onto the barstool near the kitchen bench opposite Zayn and places his chin on top of his fisted hands, “Yeah, sure. What d’you have?”

Zayn has to take a second to look at him before he responds. The only other person he’s known to be this comfortable and outgoing towards completely new people is Louis. And even then, Louis was possibly a tad tamer than this Irish guy.

"The kettle’s just boiled, if you want a tea or somethin’?" Zayn requests, but judging by the sudden screw up of Niall’s nose Zayn quickly adds on, "or we have beer?"

The blonde boy’s face lights up immediately and he nods once, “Good man. You’ll have one with me, yeah? Don’t wanna be havin’ me own fun in _your_ apartment, do ya?”

He beams, and Zayn automatically forgets the kettle and brings out two beers from the fridge.

"So, why’d you want a roomie just now? Did you just move here?"

Zayn shakes his head and takes a mouthful of his drink before he sets it back down again. “Nah, I’ve lived here for ‘bout three years now and—”

An impressive whistle escapes Niall’s lips as his eyebrows rise. “Wow, man. Three years is a long time, y’know. I’ve been here for, like, two weeks now and I’m strugglin’.”

Zayn’s brows pinch together, “Why?”

"Aw, ‘cause the lad I moved in with is an actual twat who’s messy and a loud snorer." He shakes his head at the thought, "Christ, I couldn’t have picked a better roomie, really."

"Well," Zayn says, straightening up as he lets his lips quirk up a little, "if it makes you feel better about this place, I’m the neatest person you’ll find and I don’t snore at all."

Niall slams his open hand down on the bench with joy, “Shit, I’m sold!”

Zayn smiles at him and takes another swig, feeling the smell of alcohol enter his nose, making his body crave the sensation of a smoke.

"Nah, but really, Zayn." Niall says, moving the bottom his beer bottle around on the bench, "I reckon this place is what I need."

Zayn’s eyes widen, “What? So, you mean you wanna move in?”

Niall nods.

"But, uh, you haven’t even looked—"

He’s interrupted by Niall’s laugh. Then, “Mate, I knew I wanted the place when I had a look at who owned it.”

There’s something about his voice that makes it sound like he’s joking, but there’s also the look in his eyes that have turned from blue to a misty grey in the light that makes it look like he’s not joking at all.

Zayn forces out a short laugh and finds himself frowning, “Uh, what’d you mean by that?”

Niall looks at him for a few seconds longer until his lips are pulling into a smile and he’s shaking his head. “Ah, doesn’t matter, bro. Just lettin’ you know you’re a good lookin’ guy.”

A smile pulls at Zayn’s lips as he dips his head, “Thanks, man. Not too bad yourself.” He says, and looks back up to see Niall beaming and suddenly it’s like every light is shining on him, so bright that Zayn has to force himself to look away.

"So, uh," He says, touching the pockets of his jeans until he finds his packet of cigarettes, "D’you smoke?"

One side of Niall’s nose scrunches up and he shakes his head, “Nah. But if you’re gonna have one I’ll join you outside.”

⋆

Outside is cold but it’s bearable. The only sound is from the cars below them, the tires along the road and the horn sound from impatient people in the city, driving around everywhere when it’s so much easier to catch a train - in Zayn’s opinion.

He’s watched the city from this balcony many times before, usually in the morning as he’s drinking his coffee and having a dart he’d peer out below and watch people as they rush around trying to get to their jobs on time. He’d often see small arguments developing since the atmosphere down there is so tense, everyone doesn’t seem to have enough time or enough manners, and Zayn doesn’t think he’s heard one person laugh.

"So you were gonna tell me ‘bout why you wanted a roomie?" Niall asks, leaning up against the brick wall opposite Zayn with his arms crossed; probably trying to keep warm.

Zayn places the cigarette in his mouth and lights it. He inhales as he shoves the lighter back into his pocket and exhales once the dart leaves his mouth, a trail of smoke drifting off towards the city.

"Liam, my friend that moved in here with me, had to leave for a couple of weeks to be with his family or somethin’," Zayn shrugs, leaning against the balcony’s fence, facing the streets, "and I hated being alone, so."

He shrugs again and turns to Niall, whose nose has turned slightly red from the chilly air.

"Why didn’t ya just move with him? Visit yer own family?"

Zayn puts on a smile and looks down as he shuffles his feet around. He takes in another drag, and when he blows out the smoke he says, “I would if I had one.”

The air stills for a moment and Zayn wishes that the conversation didn’t turn in this direction. He’s not for the sympathy or the questions, he only stated a fact, and that’s all it should be.

"Oh." Niall says, voice low. And Zayn waits for the ‘I’m sorry’ and the all-so-hesitant ‘what happened?’ But all that comes next is, "So why’d you move to shitty London?"

Zayn grins with the cigarette held between his fingers, the tip of it hardly touching his lips. He leans off the barrier and instead presses his back against the brick wall, now facing Niall; the boy Zayn’s become quickly fond of.

"Always wanted to do it, y’know?" Zayn states, taking another small drag, then tosses it into the ashtray, pressing it down. "Liam and I used to talk about it like, every day in high school."

"You and Liam are pretty close, eh?" Niall asks, tilting his head to the left with one of his legs put forwards.

"Yeah, guess so. Been friends since we were little, actually." Zayn smiles at that and Niall joins him. "Why’d you move here, then?"

"Dunno, really." Niall responds, and his smile returns, a puff of air escaping his mouth, "That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? Like, who moves to a different country just for the hell of it?"

Zayn looks at him and admires his choice, “I reckon it’s pretty cool.”

And it might just be the coldness of the air or the reflection from the red bricks, but Niall’s cheeks start to blush as he looks down at his feet. Zayn feels a strange warmness in the depths of his chest and he doesn’t know why.

"We should, uh, get back inside. Bit cold out here, eh?"

Niall nods and thanks Zayn when he holds the door open for him. The transition from cold to warm is delicate to his skin, warming it up almost instantly once he steps inside again.

"I might as well move in tomorrow, you think?" Niall asks as he stands in the middle of the room. "I mean, if you’re lonely and stuff, like—"

"Yeah, yeah. Cool." Zayn smiles, "I’ll fix up a key for you, like, first thing in the morning."

"Sweet!" Niall claps his hands together and grins. Then he rocks back and forth on his feet before he sighs. "I’m glad you’re so laid back, man. Was afraid you were gonna be some uptight ass that was gonna sit down and interview me about shit."

Zayn’s eyebrows perk up, “Uh, should I have done… that?”

Niall scoffs, “Sure, if you wanna know shit ‘bout me life that’d probably bore you to death.”

There’s a misplaced judgment in Zayn’s face, unsure whether inviting this complete stranger into his and Liam’s apartment without any information isn’t exactly such a good idea.

Niall must have picked up on his thoughts, since he says, “Mate, stop worryin’, yeah? All you gotta know is that I don’t have a criminal record… Well, besides fare evading but that whole rule’s bullshit, anyway - and I’m also not gonna steal anythin’ when you’re not home, either.” Niall’s eyes lock into Zayn’s, “You can trust me, yeah?”

Niall’s possibly the most harmless looking person Zayn’s ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the type of personality that attracts you to him, and it’s like, even if Zayn didn’t agree to live with Niall, he’d still want to see him again.

So, Zayn nods and flashes him a certified smile. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Niall goes to shake Zayn’s hand, but instead grabs it and brings Zayn into him, Niall’s free hand slapping onto Zayn’s back lightly.

"Thanks, man." He mutters into Zayn’s shoulder, the sound muffled.

They pull back and Niall starts to head towards the door, the never-leaving smile growing on his face.

"Alright, so, I’ll be here ‘round twelve! Cool?"

"Yeah, mate." Zayn says, sticking his thumb up at him as Niall waits at the doorway.

"Okay, bye, Zayn!" Niall calls, giving him a short wave.

And Zayn can’t help but smile a little bit at Niall’s enthusiasm. “See you later.”

Then the door closes and the silence in the room makes it obvious that the nerves in Zayn’s stomach never left.

 


	2. Chapter 2

That night, as the place rings with silence in the absence of Niall, Zayn dials in the number of his best friend to tell him about his new roommate.

There are a few rings before the other line picks up. It’s a muffled sound, then, “Hello?”

Zayn smiles at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Liam.”

Liam brightens straight away, but his voice is still muffled. “Zayn! Hey buddy, how you doing?”

"Pretty lonely," Zayn admits, "it’s shit without you. Literal shit."

"Aw, Zayn. Chin up, mate. I’ll be home in a few weeks, yeah?"

"Yeah,"

"I said you could get a roommate, Zayn, if it gets that bad." There’s a pause. And then as an afterthought Liam says, "I did tell you that, didn’t I?"

Zayn lets out a quiet laugh, “Yeah, Li, you did. And I have one now.”

Liam gasps and Zayn’s in the midst of figuring out whether that’s good or bad when Liam then says, “That’s great! Fast, too. What’re they like? Girl or boy?”

"Boy. His name’s Niall and he’s a bloody spaz." Zayn laughs fondly, "But he’s cool."

"You should let him meet Harry and Louis, maybe they’d get along?"

"True, I reckon they would."

They talk about what it’s like being back home to his family and Liam talks with such gratitude and glee that it sort of makes Zayn’s heart ache in a way that distance is impossible. He’s felt distance with his father when he left, felt distance with his sisters when they decided work was more important, and he felt distance with his mother when she kicked Zayn out of the house for “making the wrong choices with his life.”

And now, he’s feeling distance with Liam, the one person he thought he’d never feel that with.

"Hey, babe?" Liam says, after someone over on Liam’s line calls out to him.

"Yeah,"

"I gotta go, alright? Dinner’s ready."

Zayn’s stomach drops but he doesn’t know why. He knows he can’t stay on the phone to Liam forever, but the fact that the air around him is going to shortly become colder than it is makes him feel like he’d rather sleep with Liam still on the phone beside him than to fall asleep at all.

But, he manages to bring lightness in his voice when he talks next. Because he doesn’t want Liam to worry about him and he doesn’t want to ruin his trip.

"Okay, Liam. Talk soon, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course." Liam says, softly. "Love you, Zayn."

"Love you too, goodnight."

Then the phone hangs up and the room turns cold.

⋆

The next morning, Zayn doesn’t bother to check the time when he rolls out of bed. All he knows is that the sun is bright enough to shine through his window onto his eyelids, making it hard to sleep.

So he gets up and pulls on some track suit pants before yawning loudly and dragging his feet towards the kitchen where he ritually turns on the full kettle and waits for it to boil.

He’s got his cup of tea ready on the bench when there’s a knock at the door.

"Christ, who’s visitin’ at this hour?" He mumbles to himself.

He picks up his tea and opens up the door. His eyes are on the visitors feet and it’s not until he hears a breathless, “holy shit,” when Zayn realises it’s Niall.

He looks to Niall’s eyes which are unintentionally scanning over Zayn’s shirtless chest. Zayn awkwardly clears his throat, an eyebrow raised.

Niall’s eyes shoot up to meet Zayn’s and his smile appears immediately, the same bright eyes greeting him as last night.

"Hey!"

"Niall." Zayn scans the suitcase at Niall’s feet and frowns in confusion, running a hand through his hair. "Uh, is it noon already?"

"Yeah!" Niall grins, and Zayn moves away from the door slightly to let him in, "Well, it’s half to, actually." He looks at him sheepishly, "I just, like, it’s pretty shitty where I live, so."

He shrugs and Zayn nods, “Yeah, man, I understand. Just wish you woulda warned me or somethin’ ‘cause, you know.”

He lets out a laugh and gestures to his unready self, silently telling him that he doesn’t usually look like he just woke up.

"No, that’s _great_!" Niall sighs with a smile, eyes scanning Zayn’s body again. Then they meet up with Zayn’s face and he shakes his head suddenly, "I mean, like, it’s cool that you don’t, uh…" He scratches his head and points lamely towards the hallway, "S’my bedroom that way?"

Zayn has to hold in a laugh as he nods at a very suddenly flushed Niall. He watches as the blonde boy drags his suitcase across the floor, slowly shaking his head.

Zayn sips his tea and relaxes on the couch, turning the T.V on as Niall settles himself into his new room. He thinks about pulling on a shirt but that thought quickly escapes. Because although there’s noise on the screen in front of him with distracting pictures that he could be watching, his mind instead settles on replaying Niall’s eyes and how they felt on Zayn’s body, burning through his skin like they were printing their place; imprinting a memory.

There’s a sudden feeling in his chest and he tries to swallow it down, drinking his tea way faster than he would have if he weren’t thinking about blue eyes and a particular bright smile.

"Sex and the City, Zayn?" Niall asks from behind him, "Didn’t pick you to be a fan."

He drops down onto the couch when he reaches it, and Zayn notices the show now, not even realising it was on.

"Oh, uh, m’not." Zayn says, picking up the remote, "Was just flickin’ through, there’s literally nothin’ on."

He throws the remote and Niall catches it in his lap. “There never is in the afternoon, man. By the way, the room’s nice as.”

"Glad you like it."

He feels Niall shift on the oddly small couch, his body turning so it faces Zayn. He can feel Niall’s eyes on him again and Zayn doesn’t know if he should pretend to notice or not; doesn’t know what would be more awkward. But after a minute of staring but not watching the T.V, he finally catches Niall’s glance and gets a smile in return.

"Hey," Niall says, soft. "Thanks for lettin’ me stay here, really. Feel like I should repay you somehow."

He laughs, and Zayn starts to think he just laughs for the sake of laughing. Which is perfectly okay, of course, because Niall’s laugh sounds like rain after a year of drought and it warms everything up at the same time.

So Zayn shrugs, says, “As long as you’re paying rent, you don’t have to owe me anythin’.”

"True," Niall says, "but I dibs shoutin’ us our first dinner."

Zayn gives him a look, one side of his mouth pulling into a smile. “You askin’ me out, Niall?”

This time, Niall’s head flies back with a laughter that sort of sounds like a cackle, and it doesn’t last long; but it’s long enough for Zayn to notice the skin on Niall’s neck and the way his head tilts back, which makes Zayn wonder if that’s what he does when someone’s between his thighs, wonder if he’s as loud—

"Nah, Malik. Unless you want it to be a date."

Zayn stays calm enough to flash him a small smile, “Where’re you gonna take me?”

⋆

As the night turns cold and light turns to dark, Zayn and Niall get ready to go out.

Niall said it wasn’t anywhere special, just a local pizza joint that he’s grown fond of in the short space of time he’s been in London, and Zayn had agreed to it because he’s fairly sure he and Liam used to order in from the same place.

They had to take showers in turn, since the pipes in the apartment building only let water run in one, or else the hot water transitions to cold straight away. And Zayn said he’d go first - since he takes the longest to get ready - but when he steps out of the en-suite into his bedroom in only a towel; he didn’t expect to see Niall entering in at the same time.

His eyes land on Zayn straight away, and he sort of looks stunned for a second until he says, “Shit, uh. My phone, I left it here when we were talkin’ and, yeah.”

Zayn doesn’t even get a chance to talk before Niall grabs his phone from the bed and exits as coolly as he can.

He shakes his head with a small smile and drops his towel so it lands around his ankles; thinking that, if Niall were to see, he wouldn’t really care. And there’s that slight fire in his chest again when he thinks about Niall coming in right now, eyes on his cock and licking his lips like he can’t contain himself.

And Zayn has to pull on his pants and jeans quickly before he thinks about it anymore.

It’s weird, really. Because Zayn’s never actually thought about another boy as much as Niall. Well, he _did_ think about Louis a lot when he first met him, but that quickly subsided when he introduced Harry as his boyfriend. And although Zayn’s been to so many gay clubs he can’t even count on his fingers, he’s met countless of men and taken them back home for the night.

But it’s clear to Zayn now, that none of them have shined as bright as Niall.

With a shrug, he pulls on his t-shirt and follows it up with a jacket. He can hear the shower run in the other room, and Zayn shamelessly pictures Niall in there - wondering if that’s what Niall was thinking when Zayn was having his.

It must be at least half an hour later by the time Zayn’s gelled his hair just right, and has shaved and cleaned - but it’s not until he pulls on his shoes and stands in front of the body length mirror in his room when he wonders if maybe he’s dressed up too much for tonight.

And then, as if on cue, Zayn hears a breathless, “Jesus Christ,” at the doorway.

He looks up and sees Niall viewing him. Zayn has to do a double take, seeing the Irish boy in a low-collared shirt, and jeans that make him look professional yet relaxed at the same time. He’s styled his hair upwards, sort of like Zayn’s but it’s messier, and it’s the most attractive he’s ever looked. There’s a swoop in Zayn’s stomach and he has to swallow hard to keep himself from saying something stupid.

"Lookin’ good." Zayn tells him, flashing him a wink before turning to his phone and unplugging it from the charger.

"Yeah, shit, thanks." Niall says, rubbing the back of his neck, "You look fuckin’… Yeah. Good."

Zayn smiles at him and wonders if the colour in Niall’s cheeks have always been there. Then he pats Niall on the back as he passes him, and tries not to linger by his side any longer than a second.

"We should go now, yeah?" Zayn asks, then stops at the front door by the two sets of keys. "You drivin’?"

"Me? Yeah," Niall’s suddenly grinning and Zayn doesn’t know why. "I’ll drive."

⋆

They reach the diner at eight forty-five, when the place looks populated yet spacious, the car park a little more packed than expected. The drive was simple, sweet, with the hum of Niall’s music lightly buzzing through the speakers as his fingers drum against the steering wheel.

"Have ya checked in on your mate?" Niall had asked, briefly. And it’s not until Zayn looks at him when he continues, "Y’know, the one here before me."

"Oh, Liam." Zayn says, subtly making a point of saying his name.

"Liam, is it? Sick, yeah. How’s he doin’?" Niall turns to Zayn, "You miss him?"

Zayn glances out the window, “Yeah,” and that’s all he says until he looks back at Niall, a smile forming on his lips, “but that was the point of havin’ you here, right?”

Niall grins back, giving him a nod. “Right, yeah.”

They exit the car into the sudden cold breeze of London. The stars have already started appearing, covering the night sky underneath the rare fog of the grey clouds.

Zayn feels the cold straight away, wondering why he didn’t put on something more than just his jacket. But then he looks at Niall as they begin walking towards the diner, walking like it’s a nice day, like his breath doesn’t come out like mist.

He must be warm, Zayn thinks.

A bell rings when Niall opens the door, letting Zayn in first, and the search to find a spare table begins.

"If we don’t get a booth, we’re goin’ somewhere else." Niall says firmly once he’s at Zayn’s side, his head craning to find any spare spots.

"I fully agree with that."

They almost complete a full rotation of the diner, each booth being filled with couples holding hands (which totally didn’t send Zayn’s heart racing, thinking about him and Niall sitting together like that) and their hopes start to dim.

Until an elderly couple leave their booth just as Zayn and Niall turn the corner.

"Yes!" Niall grins, sliding into the cushiony seats as he claps his hands once.

Zayn slides in on the other side and picks up the menu laid out on the table. He knows what he’s going to get before he even takes a look, but he takes his time to decide. And it’s almost like he refuses to make a decision before Niall does.

A few minutes later, Niall’s saying, “Alright, I know what I’m gonna get.”

He places his menu down and Zayn follows suit. “Me too.”

Niall raises a brow, “Really? What’re you gettin’?”

"Uh—"

"Wait! Let’s both say on the count of three, ‘kay?"

Zayn lets out a small laugh and rolls his eyes. He _definitely_ has to meet Louis.

"One, two, thr—"

“‘Ey, it’s Malik!”

Zayn and Niall both frown simultaneously, and Zayn looks around to the voice who called his name.

Then suddenly he’s there, like he’s been summoned by Zayn’s thoughts, wide grin on his face as he meets Zayn’s eye.

"Lou! Hey," Zayn pulls him into a hug, glancing at Niall who’s looking like a wide-eyed boy with a new shiny toy.

When Louis stands and glances between the two of them Zayn knows what’s coming but he’s not fast enough to stop it.

"So, Zayn," Louis says, smirking, "you didn’t tell me you found a boy?"

"Hi, I’m Niall." He says, showing a smile that reveals his teeth and props a hand out.

Louis takes it, before flashing an impressed smile Zayn’s way. “Ooh, Zayn. You also didn’t tell me you were into Irishmen.”

"Get off it, Lou. He’s my roommate." Zayn tells him, lightness in his voice as he forces himself not to blush.

Louis laughs gently, “Oh, God, a roommate. That just means it’s destined to happen, doesn’t it?”

He directs the question to Niall, which is even worse, because Niall only shrugs and looks at Zayn.

"Are you with Harry?" Zayn asks Louis, desperate for a change of subject.

"Yeah! He’s getting our food, actually. I’m so _bloody_ hungry."

"I feel ya on that one, bro." Niall says, and he closes his hand so it turns into a fist, facing Louis.

Louis’ eyebrows rise, and he makes an impressed noise like Niall’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

He pumps Niall’s fist with his own, then says to Zayn, “I like him, he’s a keeper.”

Zayn just shakes and dips his head, wanting to pick up the menu again so he can hide.

Luckily, before anyone else has the chance to say anything, Harry appears by Louis’ side with a paper bag containing their food. He greets Zayn and Niall introduces himself.

"Oh, and before you assume anything like I did, Harry, they’re _not_ together." Louis says, slinking his arm with Harry’s.

Harry pouts, “Aww, they’re not? But they’d look so cute together.”

"Guys, are you serious?" Zayn asks with a frown as Niall laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. "Piss off, would ya?"

"Love you, Zayn." Louis smiles, dipping down to kiss his cheek.

Harry follows and kisses the top of Zayn’s head. He says good-bye and starts to say bye to Niall, too, before Louis’ yanking at his arm and complaining about something to do with world hunger. And then they’re out.

"Fuck, man. Sorry you had to like, witness that."

"I reckon they’re sick." Niall says.

And it doesn’t come to a shock that he does, because Niall’s always seeing the best in things, isn’t he? Plus, Zayn knew he’d like them, anyway.

⋆

It’s not until their plates are spotless, their drinks are empty and the diner rings with silence when Zayn realises they’re the only customers left. The waitresses are cleaning up and folding chairs, putting them up onto the tables in a routine that Zayn doesn’t understand.

He looks back at Niall, wondering if he had noticed the time slip away, too. “It must be gettin’ late, is it?”

Niall looks to him and raises his eyebrows as if he didn’t hear him, then he clicks with realisation and looks around, the corners of his mouth edging into a smile.

"Wow, there’s nobody else here ‘cept us!" He lets out a short laugh as he pulls his phone out of his jeans and unlocks it, viewing the time.

It reads eleven-thirty and Zayn wonders how the hell it could’ve gone so fast. What did they even talk about for two hours?

"We should go then, huh?" Zayn says, fetching out his wallet, ready to pay the bill.

Then he feels Niall’s hand stop him lightly, and Zayn’s forced to place it back into his pocket.

"My shout, remember? I wanted to take you here." Niall says, and moves out of the booth towards the cashier before Zayn can say another word.

There’s the sound of light conversation from the kitchen staff behind the counter and a whole lot of metal cutlery being stashed away together. Outside there’s faint sounds of young people crossing streets and their excited voices filling up the town as they head towards the closest club dressed in their glittery outfits that are destined to be ruined by spilt alcohol and ash by the end of the night. The only light outside from what Zayn can see is the high street lights and the faint yellow lights in the apartments across the road.

And it gets Zayn thinking - tonight, if he hadn’t found Niall, he would be in his apartment right now possibly drinking the last of his beer as he watches re-runs of F.R.I.E.N.D.S and hoping that morning would arrive so he didn’t have to feel the captured loneliness in the dark.

But, he’s not. And as he glances over to Niall, exchanging money and laughter with the cashier (who Zayn was _sure_ was looking like she wanted to die moments before), he realises that nobody else had phoned or e-mailed about the vacant residence. And Zayn smiles to himself, grateful that it hadn’t been anyone else.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The mornings Zayn has work quickly become his favourite. It’s early, and that sucks, but after he showers and gets ready, he’s always greeted with something on the table. He’s greeted by Niall, too, who always looks tired beyond compared in the mornings; yet still manages to get up early enough to cook Zayn breakfast.

"Niall," Zayn sighs, stopping at the doorway as he shakes his head. This is the third morning in a row where this has happened, and although it automatically brightens Zayn’s day, it also makes him feel terrible. "How many times have I told you? Stop doin’ this, man."

Niall’s eating his own breakfast already, a slice of toast with nothing but butter on it. “How do y’know I’m not just a mornin’ person?”

Zayn’s lips form a smile as he enters the kitchen, “I may not know you well, but judging by the way you can hardly keep your eyes open tells me that you’d rather still be in there.”

He points to his bedroom and Niall gives him a menacing look.

"What’s another few hours gonna do for me? Absolutely nothin’."

Zayn finishes his own breakfast, and by the time his coffee’s down, he looks at his watch and realises if he doesn’t go now he’ll be late.

And it’s not like he’s ever been on time before, anyway. He’s always sufficiently late, though it’s not like his managers at work even notice, it’s like they don’t even know Zayn exists at the office; yet they pay him anyway.

He could probably skip a full shift and nobody would even bat an eyelid.

"What if I got fired?" Zayn asks Niall, his chin resting onto his palm as his elbow leans on the bench.

Niall nearly chokes on his toast, “Uh, well, then you’d eventually be broke as shit and we’d have to live on the streets!”

"I’d get another job, of course. But, like, I don’t know if I have it in me to quit."

"Then don’t." Niall says, giving Zayn a look that tells him it’s the most obvious solution in the world. "If you don’t hate the life out of it then why risk gettin’ unemployed when you’re doin’ good and earnin’ money?"

When Zayn asked Liam the same question, he sat Zayn down and went through what would happen if he did; the job searching, the drop of money, the regret. With Niall, it’s simple. Everything is simple.

"Yeah," Zayn says, smiling, "thanks."

Niall shrugs, dusting his hands together to get rid of any crumbs. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Zayn stands with a short laugh, “No, you’re here to keep me company and make me breakfast.”

"Yeah, alright, mate." Niall says, and after a few seconds as Zayn picks up his keys he adds, "Think of me while you work! It’ll go faster."

The room fills with laughter so bright it almost tricks Zayn into thinking it wasn’t so early, like the sun hadn’t just risen two hours ago and the air wasn’t icy from the delayed warmth at night. He leaves the apartment with a smile, unable to tell Niall that he already does.

⋆

It’s a quarter to five when Zayn clocks off. A hard day with nothing but paperwork and computer filing makes Zayn want to smoke and cry at the same time. He’s exiting the building into the car park when Louis calls.

“‘Ello?”

"Zayn, mate, what’re your plans this evening?"

"Uh, probably jus’ gonna chill out with Niall. Why? What’re you doin’?"

Louis makes a small shriek, like an excited teenage girl and Zayn rolls his eyes as he unlocks his car.

"Wanna bring Niall out?" He asks, a smile in his voice. Zayn hears Harry speaking eagerly on the other line before Louis tells him to shut up.

"Out?" Zayn repeats, unsure. He’s getting into his seat when he says, "I don’t know, man. You and Harry—"

"It’s not gonna be a loser-y double date type thing, I promise." Louis reassures. "Just a few beers down at the pub, yeah? C’mon, Zaynie, bring the Irish fella!"

Zayn thinks straight away that Niall would love the pub. He also loves Louis, obviously, and there wouldn’t be any harm in taking him out. Maybe even if it does turn out to be a loser-y double date type thing.

"You’re persuading me, Lou."

"So that’s a yes, then?"

"Yeah, whatever. I’ll meet you guys at seven."

There’s a shout of victory on Louis’ end, and a slap of hands. Then, “Great! We’ll see you and Blondie there!”

Zayn’s about to hang up, and by the sounds of it Louis is, too. But he’s not fast enough, since he catches Harry saying, “They’re so gonna fuck.”

Which may or may not lead to Zayn’s neck and cheeks fill with heat, starting his car so he can turn on some air.

He thinks about casually addressing the fact that he wants to go somewhere with Niall again. He _could_ say Louis wants to see him, but that’s extremely cowardly, isn’t it? And he _could_ say that he’s welcome to come along, but that’d probably make him feel like he’s intruding somewhat. And it shouldn’t be this difficult - but the traffic’s light and the roads are clear - and the closer he gets to his - _their_ \- apartment, the less time he has to think.

It’s not until he turns onto an exit when he thinks up of a way to ask.

⋆

"Harry and Louis wanna go out to the pub. Come with me, yeah? I don’t wanna be a third wheel."

Perfect. Casual and nonchalant, like he’s not desperate but he’s not careless, either.

He walks into the room as Niall looks up at him from the T.V. He turns on the couch and slings his arm over the back of it, looking at him with a smirk that makes Zayn’s eyes avert straight away. Then,

"Is this a date?"

There’s a feeling that comes next but it only lasts for a matter of seconds, a quick rush of excitement and then it’s gone. Like a sandcastle built in sand, and then washed away by the waves seconds later.

Zayn laughs, and it comes out sounding nervy which is definitely _not_ what he wants.

"Yeah, my shout this time." He tosses Niall a playful wink and exits into his room.

⋆

The pub smells like it always does; beer and cologne and the collective odor of smoke that’s clung onto the shirts of older men. It’s nothing impressive, really. Just a bar with a couple of couches and tables, with a few T.V sets playing nothing but sports. There’s a pool table in the next room, but that’s always filled with girl-thirsty guys and too much testosterone.

Zayn, Niall, Harry and Louis are all standing around a circle-shaped glass table. Louis’ talking about some police officer who was writing him a parking ticket, or something.

Zayn sort of feels terrible for not listening but he also feels like he’s heard this story before, and quite frankly he’d much rather be listening to Niall next to him who’s absorbing each of Louis’ words and laughing whenever he says something remotely humorous. Harry’s staring at Louis like it’s the first time they've met and he wants to get to know him better. Zayn wonders if that’s what he looks like when he looks at Niall.

"Well, lads. Who’s up for another round?" Louis’ suddenly prompting, raising his eyebrows specifically to Harry.

"Yeah, uh, yeah. Let’s go, I’ll help you." Harry mumbles, flashing a knowing smirk Zayn’s way before he guides Louis towards the bar.

Zayn thinks they are shocking wing-men. The worst. If there was a medal that could crown worst ever wing-men it would go to them two.

And because it’s suddenly put pressure on him now to entertain Niall on this so-called “date”, he feels himself fiddling with his beer and drinking more often than not.

"Is there anyone in here that catches your eye?" Zayn blurts out. He almost cringes when he hears himself saying it, but it seems to be a good conversation starter so he relaxes a little.

"Shit, I haven’t even had a look." Niall shrugs. Then he turns and scopes the room, and Zayn wants to cringe again - because now Niall’s going to want to chat someone else up and Zayn will have to watch. "Ooh, nup! Seems like you’ve outdone everyone again, Malik!"

The words register in Zayn’s head and he feels blood rush to his cheeks. He also feels his lips stretching into a smile.

"Well, then you’re obviously not looking that hard." He replies, modestly.

Niall looks at him and he shakes his head, “I wouldn't have to.”

Zayn clears his throat and cocks his chin towards the bar, “Doubt you looked at those girls.”

"They don’t interest me."

He raises a brow, “Those… Boys?”

"Yeah," Niall says casually, leaning back against the table, "though there’s nobody here, really." He takes a sip of beer then quickly adds, "Except for you. Of course."

He’s standing directly underneath the beam of light that’s hanging from the ceiling, complimenting the highlights in Niall’s hair - his cheekbones, the blue in his eyes, the shine in his smile. Zayn thinks about kissing him for a moment, wonders what he would do. He also thinks about whether Niall’s joking around, since that’s the kind of personality that he has. And lastly, Zayn thinks that he shouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

So he flashes Niall a sweet smile, and only looks away when he does. Zayn silently curses to himself, wishes he knew how to make conversation.

"Anyone that interests you?"

Zayn’s laugh comes out short, and he doesn’t catch Niall’s eye until he says, “Would it be lame if I said the exact thing you said?”

There’s a new found brightness in Niall’s eyes now. His cheeks rise from his smile, “You reckon I outshine everyone in this room, Malik?”

Zayn could cave in now; tell him that he always stands out. But instead he makes it a laughable matter, because he’s nervous and pathetic and wouldn’t know how to go about this even if it electrocuted him in the ass.

"Well I mean, it wouldn’t be hard." He says, and he smiles but on the inside he’s frowning so hard at himself.

There’s a pause in Niall’s response, and Zayn thinks for a minute that he sees disappointment in Niall’s expression. But then he’s smiling again, looking around the pub.

"So true, man."

That nickname. “Man” and “bro” and “dude”. They’re such friendly terms and Zayn wonders when it’d be okay to call each other names like “babe” and “love”.

"I’m sorry I dragged ya out here. Looks like Harry and Lou didn’t even need my company anyway." Zayn scoffs, looking over at the couple near the bar.

Louis’ giggling into the crook of Harry’s neck, Harry probably whispered something unfathomable into his ear.

"Nah, it’s cool. Don’t mind havin’ a drink or two." Niall smirks, "Seems like you already know that, though."

Zayn shrugs, “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

There’s a timid silence between them, though the area raves with thick music and loud men at every corner. A loud laugh shoots through the room like a bullet and it almost scares Zayn enough to drop his drink completely.

One day he’ll get Louis back. One day.

"Wanna get home, then?" Niall’s asking, and it seems so spontaneous and free yet planned since they were both obviously thinking it.

Zayn nods quickly, and they say their good-bye’s to Harry and Louis - who both give Zayn a wink when they’re told that he and Niall are going back home - and they leave.

⋆

It’s strange how dates are perceived to work. You take them out, walk them home - and if it’s going great - they invite you inside. Thing is, the factor of living together disintegrates that impression and you’re left with the constant argument whether or not it’s an actual date.

It shouldn’t frustrate Zayn as much as it is, but as Zayn opens the door to their apartment, letting Niall walk in first, he doesn’t know if it’s a sudden urge or if it’s catching up to him all at once but his need to settle down and classify once and for all what this is grows faster with every second that passes.

Because unlike Niall, Zayn doesn’t like to go with the flow or to stroll along not knowing what things are or where people stand with each other. He’s logical like that, always stressing out until he finds the perfect piece that fits into the puzzle.

He can blame Liam for that.

"Want another beer, mate?" Niall asks him, crossing over to the fridge almost automatically.

"Yeah, yeah." Zayn nods. And it’s not until he finds his hands clenching and unclenching, with his veins starting to show up his arms, when he realises what he _really_ needs. "I’ll be with ya in a sec, okay? Just gotta have a smoke."

"Sure, man."

Zayn’s in his bedroom before he can really notice, and he’s pulling out the draw from his bedside table, fetching the small plastic pocket with his weed stored in it.

He places his paper on top of the table, cautious, and begins to roll.

He doesn’t know why he’s so secretive about it. Niall’s definitely not a cop, or someone who would judge or comment on the use of marijuana. But maybe it’s because his family had always disapproved it, and Liam wasn’t a fan, either.

He could stop, if he wanted to. Once he stopped for a whole month. But that was before he began getting stressed again - before he felt nervous.

Licking the thin strip of paper, he folds it over to complete his hand-made joint. It’s thin - Zayn didn’t want to waste his stash on a late night feed - but it’s enough to pass up as a cigarette.

"Do ya smoke when ya drink or somethin’?" Niall asks when Zayn leaves his room. He’s standing with his back lent against the bench, a beer held in his hand.

"Usually, yeah."

"Mind if I join ya again?"

There’s a pause. Zayn feels his hand, the one without the dart, clench again. Then there’s a voice in the back of Zayn’s mind saying “fuck it.”

“‘Course not.” He says, lips pressing into a smile.

Niall almost skips to Zayn’s side, and they both walk outside to the familiar balcony. The busy air that’s filled with traffic and stars become their surroundings. Not a second passes before Zayn’s bringing a flame to his “cigarette”, brightening up his face for a second as he holds the rolled paper between his teeth, and then it’s dark again.

He feels Niall’s eyes on him as he breathes out the smoke, closing his own as he feels the familiar serenity filling up his lungs. When he opens his eyes, he’s welcomed with a grin.

"Tobacco not enough, huh?" Niall notices, obviously familiar with the smell.

Zayn shrugs, letting out a small laugh. “Sometimes it is. But sometimes I think, why inhale something that’s gonna kill you if you’re not gaining anything from it?”

"And you reckon gettin’ high is gaining?"

"For me, it is."

Zayn takes another drag and watches as Niall takes another sip from his beer.

"It’s the same with alcohol, isn’t it?" Zayn asks him, cocking his chin towards the bottle, letting out smoke as he does it. "We drink to get drunk, and it’s all for the same reason."

"What reason’s that?"

"To have something to blame, to have something that we can rely on, to have something that we know is gonna let us forget." Zayn shrugs, takes a long drag, and then says, "It’s an escape."

Niall pauses. He looks down at his beverage and frowns, like he’s found something new. His eyes flicker from Zayn to his joint, and he sticks out his first finger so it’s pointing towards him.

"So, what’re you escapin’ from?"

Zayn lets out a small laugh. He finishes the last of his smoke and puts it out, accompanying the butt of the cigarette he had last night. He quietly wishes it were thicker, or longer, but his mind seems to be eased already and he’s calm for now.

"I don’t really know, if I’m honest." He replies. He could go into detail about his family, or his work, or his confusion with the boy in front of him - but instead he puts on a mask, because that seems to always be the safest option. "Maybe I’m just addicted."

"Well, I think you’re right, Mr Malik." Niall claims, straightening his back. “‘Cause I know what I’m escapin’ from."

"Yeah?" Zayn looks at him, his forehead creasing a little.

"Yeah. Uh, do you… remember when I was tellin’ you about me other roommate?" He asks, suddenly uneasy. He shifts his weight on one foot, and then switches again.

Zayn feels a vibe through the air, like it’s suddenly tense and there’s a shift of mood like he should be scared.

He only nods, waiting for Niall to go on.

"Well, he kinda, uh, he is an absolute shit of a roommate, y’know." He says, and then laughs but his eyes aren’t smiling. He places his beer on the barrier of the decking and fiddles with his fingers. "Should actually be put in prison, if ya ask me."

"What, why? What’d he do?"

Zayn moves closer but he can’t help it. If this guy hurt Niall in any way, if he even placed a _finger_ —

"He’d come home like extremely drunk, yeah? And he’d find me, y’know. I’d tell him to move off but he was proper strong, he could kill me with one punch." He’s talking fast and his eyes are wide, "He didn’t do a lot to me but I didn’t feel safe, like at all. So as soon as I saw ya ad I wanted to get outta there as soon as possible, you know?"

He looks to Zayn and shrugs, “And I guess that’s what I’m escapin’ from.”

Zayn forces a smile. Like he really uses all his muscles to form one. His face is relaxed, he’s sure of it. But his hands are clenched by his sides - and not because he wants a smoke.

"You’re safe now, though, yeah?" He says, mindlessly hoping.

Niall nods, gratitude in his voice when he slinks his arms underneath Zayn’s, pulling him into a hug and says, “Yeah, I am. Thanks to you.”

He feels Niall’s face bury into the crook of Zayn’s neck and he relaxes completely. His fists turn to palms and they rest on Niall’s back, knowing that if he can’t beat the crap out of Niall’s shitty roommate, then he can at least treat the boy like he deserves.

"Let’s go inside, hm? Let’s stay up late and talk about shit all."

Niall hums softly and pulls back from the hug and forms a smile, nodding. “Sounds good to me.”

Zayn slings an arm around Niall’s shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They enter the apartment again; leaving Niall’s form of escape behind.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

"I didn’t know ya had sisters?" 

Zayn glances over towards the kitchen with his brows furrowed, spotting Niall standing there with a slice of cheese in his hand; the phone hung up and positioned next to him. 

Zayn tosses his keys to the bench near the door and slips off his shoes, desperate to get comfortable after another eye-gauging day at work. 

"Three of ‘em, actually." He says, dropping some paperwork in front of Niall, and then glances at the phone. "Why? Did they call?"

"Nah, but Liam did." Niall says, shrugging, "Said something about callin’ him back and that he bumped into one of your sisters." 

Zayn swallows. The last time Liam saw Zayn’s family was when they were kicking him out and Liam was there in the drive-way, watching on and waiting for him. He wonders if they spoke at all, if Liam was even recognizable from when he was sixteen. 

"Alright. Thanks." Zayn nods, unable to say anything else. 

He crosses over to the fridge to grab a beer, then hears a staged cough from over his shoulder, and pulls out another one. He hands one over to Niall and he accepts it with a smile. 

"What’d you do today?" Zayn asks, subconsciously making conversation so it doesn’t cross back to what he knows Niall’s itching to ask. 

"Went grocery shoppin’. Didn’t you notice?" 

Zayn gives him a sceptical look, “Did you buy anythin’ more than potato gems and chicken this time?” 

"Yeah, ‘course I did. Got bread and milk as well." 

Zayn lowers his head and shakes it with a fond smile. “How are you so simple?” 

He bites his lip as soon as he lets those words slip out and hopes that he was too quiet for Niall to even hear anything. But as Zayn looks up to start another conversation Niall’s eyes are filled with confusion and dubiousness, his grip loosening around his bottle a little. 

"What?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. 

They share a glance for a few more seconds before Zayn decides to wave it off with his hand, shaking his head again but for an entirely different reason. 

"Nothin’, man. I just meant, like, compared to Liam, y’know." 

"Oh," Niall replies with a shrug, taking it with a grain of salt. Then he goes to take a sip and he pauses, frowning innocently like a puzzled child. "Is that a good thing, though? That I’m simple?" 

Zayn couldn’t hide the wide smile even if he tried. He nods, urging to tell him that it’s more than a good thing; that complexity has overstayed his welcome during his life and a change of simplicity is like a vacation from his disastrous mind. 

"Yeah, yeah it is." He tells him instead. 

⋆

Hearing Liam’s voice fills Zayn’s veins with a type of warmth that mixes in with happiness and pain, noticing how long it’s been not hearing it in person. Zayn hates to admit it but the effects of separation anxiety are starting to appear outside of his mind. 

"You been alright?" Zayn asks him, twisting the landline’s cord around his finger aimlessly. 

"Yeah, yeah. Been good. You?" 

"Besides missing you a shit tonne? I’ve been pretty good, too." Zayn replies, glancing over at Niall who’s sitting on the couch as Liam giggles in his ear. "Niall told me you bumped into someone." 

"Oh! Yeah, I saw Waliyha." Liam says, and Zayn can hear the touch of delicateness in his voice as he says her name, as though if it were said differently the itch underneath Zayn’s skin would change. "It was quite weird, actually. Hasn’t changed much, if I’m honest." 

"Did she recognize you?" 

"I didn’t think she did at first but once I went over to her she spoke to me so I think she was trying her best to avoid me." 

Zayn laughs, “Sounds right.” 

"Funny thing, though, I found out she and the others still live at home." 

There’s a twist in Zayn’s stomach. He wants to scoff at the word “home” and he also wants to cuss at them all for sticking together so easily when they were more than happy to lead him out the door. 

But then the twist settles and he sort of wants to laugh. 

"They’re still at home? They still live with mum?" 

"Yeah, mate." Liam says, and Zayn can almost see him shaking his head, "Pathetic, if you ask me." 

This time, Zayn does laugh. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” 

He wonders if he still would be at home if he wasn’t forced to make a living for himself, too. 

He thinks about what life he _would_ have, and if he and Liam would still be close. 

"Well, I better go. These long distance phone calls are costing a fair bit and Nicola’s yelling at me." 

Zayn pouts, “Aw, but I’ll miss you too much, Liam.” 

And it might be the sudden coldness of the night’s air or the events on T.V but Zayn swears Niall’s whole body has stiffened, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"It’s okay, Zaynie. Two more weeks and I’m home, yeah? I love you." 

Zayn smiles, “Can’t wait. I love you too.”

The line disconnects and it’s not until the phone’s hung up when Zayn realizes the television’s been on mute the whole time. 

⋆

Yet, time is the last thing on Zayn’s mind. Especially when Niall’s sitting on his bed with his family photo album, flipping through the pages and telling a story for every single photo. There’s so much pride and fondness in every particle of his body and speech it’s impossible for Zayn not to feel the same. 

"This woman here’s me granny," Niall points out, gesturing to a younger, black and white photo of her with flowers in her hair, "she’s eighty-one now and still looks this good." He says with a heartfelt laugh. 

Zayn returns his smile and continues to watch on as Niall flips the pages, listening contently as he gives out details and stories, wanting to absorb as much information about his life as Niall will let him. 

His eyes catch a familiar smile in one of the photos, “Is that you?” 

"Yeah," Niall tilts his head to the side, "that’s me as a baby. Look how bloody small I am!" 

"You still have the same smile."

Niall laughs and the room fills with it, “You reckon?” 

He holds up the album so it faces Zayn, the baby picture next to Niall’s face as Niall smiles. 

"I swear it’s identical." 

Niall laughs even harder, as though that was possible, “No kiddin’!” 

They reach the end of the album and Niall closes it with a sigh. 

Zayn doesn’t know how, but they both end up lying side by side, face up towards the ceiling. It’s silent, but it’s nice. There’s the sound of the room next door’s faint music, something that Zayn could fall asleep to. 

And he’s sure that if Niall didn’t speak up, he would’ve. 

"Hey, Zayn?" 

Zayn turns his face so his cheek rests on the pillow, eyes on Niall. “Mm?” 

It’s a few seconds before Niall speaks again, and Zayn can see with the slight creases between Niall’s eyebrows that he’s careful about it. 

"D’ya think things coulda been different?" He asks, and then turns his head to face Zayn, "Y’know, with your family?" 

"Probably." Zayn answers with a shrug, without hesitation. "It doesn’t really faze me, like, the way I see it is if the whole… situation never happened, I wouldn’t be here. I’d probably still be livin’ with my mum."

He thinks back to the conversation he had with Liam earlier and smiles to himself, turning back to look up at the ceiling. “Like my sisters.”

"Yeah," Niall agrees, copying Zayn so they’re both looking up, "It’s funny how life has its own lil way of workin’ itself out, innit?"

Zayn’s smile slowly falters when he thinks of Niall and his life before they met. He suddenly desperately wants to know what his old roommate was specifically like - what he did, how he acted, what he said - he wants to ask him and know, but he suppresses it. 

Instead he nods at Niall’s statement and thinks about how grateful he is that Liam finally got to visit his well missed family, and he’s grateful that Niall looked up his ad in the paper and gave him a call. He’s grateful that things turned out for the better, that whatever his old roommate has done, Niall’s safe now. 

"Yeah," Zayn replies, letting his eyelids fall over his eyes, "it is." 

⋆

Zayn wakes up to the soft sounds of breathing next to him. It’s calm and blissful, like it’s supposed to be there, supposed to act like an alarm for him in the mornings. 

He finds his body unable to move as easily as other days, unable to roll out and stand up. He also finds his roommate - sound asleep and smiling - attached to his side, an arm placed over Zayn’s chest with their legs intertwined. 

Zayn lets out a soft sigh, moving his fingers so they play with Niall’s hair softly - the sound of morning birds chirping is the only thing that can be heard, besides the light breathing that’s strangely put his whole body at ease. 

He glances over to the clock on his bedside table briefly, noting that he only has two more minutes before his real alarm goes off. He sighs again, but for a different reason. 

Zayn tries his best to untangle their limbs without disturbing Niall at all. He moves out of Niall’s sleepy koala hold and tucks him back in, resisting the sudden urge to kiss his eyelids softly. The alarm starts to go off and it startles Zayn so much that he nearly knocks it off the stand. 

He glances back at Niall, letting out a held breath when he sees him still asleep and undisturbed. 

The cold reaches Zayn before he’s able to reach the shower - thinking that if Zayn feels like the moon then Niall must be the sun, remembering how warm and cosy he was when Niall was cuddled next to him. 

He steps out of the shower and dresses himself for work, relieved to see his bed still occupied by the sun-filled boy. 

For a week straight, Niall had always woken up extra early to make Zayn breakfast. And with a few minutes to spare, he feels like returning the favour and searches in the depths of the cupboard, finally finding the pancake mixture he and Liam were going to use _one_ day - but never did. 

The smell of cooked pancakes makes Zayn’s stomach turn, not realizing how hungry he had been. The aroma must have seeped into his bedroom, because a few minutes later a sleepy little Niall comes out, rubbing his eyes as his feet pad gently against the kitchen floor. 

"Morning," Zayn smiles, ignoring the warmth his body feels at the new presence. 

"Pancakes?" He asks, removing his hands to reveal brightened eyes. 

"Yeah," Zayn says, moving them from the pan onto the plate, "thought I’d repay you." 

Niall smiles a sleepy smile and takes two from the stack, moving them onto his own plate. He’s buttering one when he looks up to meet Zayn’s eyes, sort of embarrassed. 

"Sorry I fell asleep in your bed last night." 

It’s a bizarre feeling because Zayn should be thanking him, not accepting an apology. 

"Nah, it’s fine, really." He reassures, "Anytime." 

He sort of wants to propose a different sleeping arrangement - tell him that Niall’s bedroom is off limits and he just _has_ to sleep in Zayn’s bed from now on. But his time’s up and he’s walking towards the door, saying, “I’ll see you later,” instead. 

⋆

After work, he’s surprised with Harry and Louis, leaning against his car. Zayn’s not sure if it should be a pleasant surprise or not, thinking that he’s really not ready for another “double-date thing” and would much rather stay at home with Niall. 

Truth is, he’s been excited to get back home and watch crap T.V with pizza, listening to Niall as he laughs over something undoubtedly stupid all night. He doesn’t want to go out to another shitty pub and he doesn’t want to witness the couple leaning at his car make out until they’re sore. 

Louis spots him first, tapping Harry’s shoulder and pointing towards Zayn with a grin. Harry waves to him but Louis waits until Zayn’s close enough to hug him. 

"Hey, worker." Louis winks, bumping his hip to Zayn’s. 

"I’m guessing you’re not here to enjoy the view?" Zayn asks rhetorically. Though, Harry does take a quick second to look around the grey car park. 

Louis gasps, “Well, I’m offended. Why aren’t you smiling like an idiot and peppering me with kisses?” 

"Uh," Zayn scratches the back of his neck, glancing between Harry and Louis sceptically, "Have I missed something?" 

"Far out, Malik." Louis says in a disappointed tone, his hand coming up to rest on Zayn’s shoulder. "Don’t tell me you missed the opportunity to fuck Niall into oblivion after our date." 

Zayn’s eyes widened, his voice stuck in his throat. Louis is incredible, really. 

"If you don’t mind," He says, lightly batting Louis’ hand away, "I’d like to go home." 

"He didn’t fuck him." Harry concludes, almost _sad_. 

"No, he didn’t, Harry." Louis joins him, and they both shake their heads in unison as though someone just died. 

"Oh, for Christ’s sake." Zayn pushes through both of them, finally getting to his car and unlocking it. He gets into his front seat and almost turns the engine on; before he turns to the couple and sees the question they both want to ask in their eyes. "Alright, yes, you can hop in." 

Zayn loves them, he does. But now it’s going to be him, Niall, and the overly-loud Louis and his love-sick puppy boyfriend. At least, this time, Louis’ happy to just sit at home, and isn’t persuading Zayn to go out. 

“At least tell me you’ve kissed the boy.”

One glare and Louis shuts up, miming his hands in a way that makes it look like he’s zipping up his mouth and throwing away the key.

⋆

They reach the apartment in less time than usual, something about the Thursday night roads seem to be less busy than any other night of the week. 

The first thing Zayn notices when he climbs up the staircase to their door is the pounding music of _The Weeknd_ , a playlist Zayn’s sure he’s made. The second thing he notices when he opens the door is that it’s coming from Niall’s bedroom – his own door closed. 

"What d’you think he’s doin’ in there?" Zayn asks his two friends, as though they’d have a clue. 

Louis shrugs as Harry says, “Jacking off, probably.” 

Zayn’s hand on the edge of the couch tightens; his face suddenly hot with colour.  

"Ooh, you reckon?" Louis asks with a gleam in his eye. And before Zayn can even attempt to stop him, Louis’ crossing the room and opening the door. 

He exits almost two seconds later, shutting the door behind him, his eyes blown wide. “Well, that’s a sight.” 

Zayn tries to relax himself and falls onto the couch, sprawling out onto it as he lets his arm rest over his eyes. 

They’re quiet for a moment, Harry and Louis, and the only sound is the music that hasn’t stopped. Although, the more he listens the more he’s able to interpret the soft moans over it. 

Zayn’s suddenly praying that someone talks to keep him sane. 

"I’m gonna take two guesses of who he’s thinking about." Louis announces, as if on cue. 

Zayn groans, he couldn’t have talked about politics or something. “Please don’t.”

"It’s either me or Zayn, hands down." 

Harry’s silent, but Zayn can almost picture his frown. And then he says, “ _Hey_ …” 

Louis kisses him, it’s short and sweet but it’s enough for Zayn to roll over into the couch with a groan. 

"Babe," Louis says, in his most polite tone possible, "if he’s thinking of you I’ll have to snap his wrist." 

Zayn swallows. 

A few seconds pass, then the music’s switched off. Zayn hears Niall moving around a bit, and when the door opens, Zayn lifts his head. 

His heart almost stops at the sight.

Niall comes out, flushed and sweaty like he just rode the best orgasm of his life. He’s topless, and his track suit pants are riding just below his hips, and he’s without a doubt not wearing any underwear. He looks like sex, a sight that makes Zayn’s mind fill with thoughts that are way too dirty to be thinking when he’s _righ_ t there.

"Oh, hey, lads." Niall smiles, as though he hasn’t just sent Zayn into shock. "Didn’t think you’d be home yet." 

It takes a few seconds for Zayn to realize Niall was talking to him. “Uh, yeah, it was, uh—” He clears his throat, “the traffic was light.” 

He tries to ignore Louis’ spluttered laugh. 

Niall nods, then says, “Was just thinkin’ ‘bout you, actually.” 

And it takes everything in Zayn not to burst then and there. 

When nobody says anything for a while, Niall rocks back and forwards on the balls of his feet before he clicks his tongue. 

"Right. Well, I’m gonna…" He trails off, pointing towards the shower. 

"Yeah, uh, you go… do that." 

Niall gives a final nod and turns swiftly on his heel, walking back towards the bathroom. It’s painfully quiet when he leaves, and Zayn’s just waiting for the laughs to come. 

"So, he was thinking about you." Harry says, instead. 

Louis snaps his fingers in defeat, “Damn.”

A sound of a loud horn is heard from the traffic outside, a sound that somehow Zayn can relate to. It’s big and effective, like a change in environment and the outcome being alteration. He’s almost certain he won’t be able to look at his roommate the same without thinking of him sweaty and wrecked – he’s also not sure whether he’ll be able to stop himself dreaming of ways he can make him look like that again.

“You alright, soldier?” Louis calls, cocking his chin towards Zayn.

He groans pitifully and slinks back into the couch, not surprised at all when he closes his eyes and his mind fills with Niall. 


	5. Chapter 5

Zayn places his phone down on the kitchen bench after ordering their pizzas to the squeaky-voiced boy on the other line. Niall, Louis and Harry are sat on the couch, watching something that looks like Funniest Home Videos; Niall and Louis laughing at each person that stumbles and hurts themselves but Harry’s confused at how they think that’s funny. He then is the only one laughing at the monkey who loses his balance and falls on his side.

After a few minutes, Zayn assesses the situation and creates the conclusion that the room on the couch for all three of them is too little. He decides he’ll worry about that later, knowing that if he feels Niall next to him - his warmth radiating off his body like a personalized heater - Zayn would be unable to cope. 

"I’m just gonna hop in the shower." He says, and the three boys turn around. "Uh, if the pizza comes before I’m out, the money’s just on the counter, yeah?" 

"Okay, Zayner. Have a nice wank!" Louis calls once Zayn’s out of the room. There’s a slight snicker from Harry and nothing from Niall from what Zayn can catch. 

Zayn gets the shower running as soon as he’s able to, letting the noise of the pressured water hit the ceramic flooring like light pebbles being poured out onto the road, undressing himself as the temperature becomes suitable. Once he gets in he almost wraps a hand around himself straight away - unashamed that Louis’ was right - and re-enacts the vision of Niall emerging from his room like he just had the best orgasm of his life. 

Zayn thinks about what that would look like underneath him and comes, the water washes away the evidence but the thought still remains. He cleans himself, washes his hair, and does a lazy job of drying off before he exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

He’s about to walk over to close the bedroom door until he spots Niall perched on top of his bed. 

"Shit - Christ." Zayn almost stumbles but catches his footing before he’s able to fall. He clears his throat and tightens the towel around his waist, "Uh—"

"Hi." Niall says with a smile, as though they were only standing at a doorway. 

Zayn looks around the room once, then down at his own body and tries not to give away any sense of discomfiture. 

"Hi." He replies. 

"You know," Niall begins, his legs crossed over with his elbows on his knees and his chin rested on his hands, looking like a folded flower that without a doubt smells lovely. "This is the second time I’ve seen you wet and topless." 

Zayn widens his eyes a little, fidgeting on his feet like he doesn’t know what position to stand in. He doesn’t know what to say, either. So he apologises. 

"Oh, uh. Sorry ‘bout that." He brings a hand up to reach the back of his head, winding his fingers through his hair for something to do. 

"Don’t be sorry." 

Zayn swallows deeply as he watches Niall’s eyes slowly gaze over Zayn’s body. He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. There’s a part of Zayn – the dominant part, if he’s honest – that’s telling him to crawl on top of Niall then and there, kiss him until Niall’s red-lipped and lying flat on his bed with his legs wrapped around Zayn’s waist. But the other part - the _sane_ part of him – it’s refraining himself of doing just that, knowing that if he were to do that he wouldn’t be able to stop. It’s like a brick wall separating the things he wants from the things he’s _supposed_ to want.

It’s annoying, infuriating and apprehensive, really. He doesn’t like to admit that he’s fearful, so he blames Liam for his second sensible nature.

"Well, I kinda need to…" He trails off, vaguely pointing at his towel and clothes that are laid messily on the end of his bed. 

"Fuck. Yeah. Right." Niall shakes his head, as though he’d just been knocked out of a trance. He stands up from the bed, patting at his jeans softly. "Just came in ‘ere ‘cause lovebirds were kissin’ and that’s not my favourite thing to be viewin’."

Zayn lets out a short, sympathetic laugh. “I know what you mean, mate. Been there.” 

Niall nods with a smile, “Yeah, don’t know how you coped.” He begins to walk towards the door as Zayn shrugs. “Well, I’ll, uh, meet you out there.” 

Zayn doesn’t know why he stays still. He doesn’t know why he has to stand in the way of the door and Niall. _He_ was the one that practically forced him out of the bedroom; he doesn’t know why he didn’t move. 

Maybe it’s because he secretly liked the way Niall had to squeeze passed. How he had to brace his hands on the top of Zayn’s bare, slightly wet shoulders. And for a second or two, their faces were only inches apart - as though, if Zayn were to move his head, he could kiss him. 

But then Niall’s out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

⋆

"Thank you, have a nice night." Zayn smiles at the pizza boy who was practically gawking at him throughout their whole exchange. 

He closes the door and sets the boxes on the bench, met with Louis and glasses already being filled with coke. 

"That boy wanted to suck your cock so bad." Louis tells him, a little too loud. 

Niall, who had leapt up as soon as the doorbell rang, leans over the bench as he faces Zayn and Louis. There’s a crease between his eyebrows for a second, but it disappears once he opens his own steaming box, revealing the greasy slices of pizza. 

"Wouldn’t say that, Lou. He was probably just nervous." Zayn replies modestly, taking his glass from Louis. 

"Uh, no." Louis confirms, shaking his head with a sound that comes out sounding like a mocking laugh, "He was definitely just stunned because he was picturing your cock in his mouth, let’s be real here." 

Zayn rolls his eyes and gives up because there’s never any point in disagreeing with Louis, especially when it’s to do with something as stupid as this. 

When he glances back at Niall, there’s undeniably a frown on his forehead. He gives Zayn one short look before he’s takes his own glass and pizza, heading off towards the couch. 

"Do you reckon I upset him?" Louis whispers, leaning into Zayn’s ear. 

Zayn jerks his head back, looking at Louis weirdly. 

"What?" He whispers, "Why do you think that?" 

Louis lets out a fed-up sigh and Zayn feels like this should be clearer to him. 

"Because," He says, picking up his glass and raising it to his lips, "I’ve made him realize that you’re a hot piece of ass and that everybody wants you." 

Zayn makes a shocked sound, less of a gasp and more of a sigh, “Louis—”

"You’re welcome." He says, finishing the conversation with a wink. 

Zayn’s left to shake his head, picking up his food and drink before heading over to the only couch they have in the apartment. The time between coming back out into the living room after the situation with Niall and the pizza boy coming to the door, things hadn’t been awkward. Not that it is now, and he has to blame Louis for making him think that it is, assuming that he’d upset Niall by suggesting that other people want Zayn, too. Which is completely absurd, isn’t it? Because now Niall’s laughing at something Louis’ said and it’s all just an illusion that Zayn could fall for like magicians with mirrors  - and that’s why he couldn’t believe that Niall would be jealous, or even be _interested_ in Zayn at all.   
  
So, he pushes the idea of it out of his head, for now, and stops in front of the trifling sofa. It wasn’t even big enough to fit him and Liam when they wanted to watch a film together, so fitting four people should be interesting. 

Though, Louis had taken the initiative to sit himself on Harry’s lap so there’s a valid space next to Niall. Zayn sits down, the heated box on his lap, and sets down his glass on the floor. They’ve squished together like shapes in a game of Tetris, Zayn pressed to the edge of the armrest with Niall’s arm and thigh touching his own. 

He can’t complain. With the heat surrounding him he could go without the knitted sweater he’s wearing. 

The film starts and Zayn’s not entirely sure what DVD Harry’s put in, but it starts with a familiar tune and it’s not long until he realizes it’s “ _The Titanic_ ”. 

"Harry, why’d you put this on?" Zayn asks him, "You’re gonna saturate the food with your tears." 

"Hey… I like this movie." Harry defends, his left hand tracing Louis’ thigh aimlessly. "And I only cry sometimes." 

"You cry every single time, babe." Louis tells him as the movie starts. He looks back to Zayn and says penetratingly, "Bag him on it and I’ll lock you out of your own apartment." 

Zayn throws his hands up by his side as a sign of surrender. Niall laughs beside him and Louis’ glare turns to him. 

"You too, Blondie." 

Niall’s laugh stops and it’s silent as the film continues playing. 

Usually, Zayn would be intrigued. The silence would be comforting to him; beneficial for the movie as it lets him listen and absorb. But tonight, no silence in the world could make him attentive - not with a bright-eyed boy next to him who’s close, close enough to kiss.

And it’s odd, because regardless of the sighs of affection the couple next to him give when Leonardo appears on the screen, the only sound Zayn hears at that moment is the reoccurring shouts in his head, ordering him to grab Niall’s hand, place his arm around him, do _something_ that grabs his attention. 

It’s frustrating, really. But as the movie goes on and the ending scene is done, Harry’s eyes are watery and Zayn and Niall hadn’t touched once. 

"Has everyone eaten all of theirs?" Louis asks, standing up from Harry’s lap. 

After a collection of “yeah“‘s, Louis takes each box and brings them up to the counter. Niall leans back into the couch, stretching his arms out either side over the top with a satisfied sound. 

"You alright?" He asks Harry, who’s still currently sniffing and rubbing at his eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah." He nods, blinking. "I must be the only one who finds it sad, am I?" 

"I do." Zayn says, shrugging. "Just don’t express it like you do, mate." 

Niall nods, “Yeah, I’m with Malik.” 

Zayn wants to punch himself in the gut because _no_ , that shouldn’t send butterflies throughout his stomach. It’s pathetic and Niall’s just fucking agreeing with him.

Louis comes back and goes to sit on Harry’s lap but Harry - unintentionally, Zayn assumes – groans in anticipation of Louis going to sit on him again. Louis frowns, widening his eyes as if to ask, “what?” 

"No, it’s fine. C’mon, sit." Harry smiles up at him, tapping his lap, transparently afraid of Louis getting offended.

Louis looks at him for a few seconds. Then with a surprising, small flick of his finger he looks at Niall and says, “Move.” 

Niall shifts himself so he’s left an inch of space between him and Harry, leaving Zayn to practically mould into the end of the couch. 

Louis shakes his head, “No, mate. Like, move onto Zayn so Harry can be free of my heavy bum, yeah?” 

"Babe, you’re not—"

"Harry, I’ve been sittin’ on you for two hours." 

Harry stays silent as Zayn goes to object. But Niall, being the free spirit he is, gets up without another word and suddenly he’s seated on Zayn’s lap so comfortably it’s like he’s made for it. 

Zayn doesn’t know where to put his hands so he drops them on either side of his body - anxious that if he were to wrap them around Niall’s waist, Niall would pull them off and ask what the fuck was wrong with him. 

"So, Golden Couple, how’d ya meet?" 

Zayn glances over to the couple and realizes Niall had asked them that. Louis, who’s now wrapped in Harry’s arms, gives out a short laugh. 

"Funny story, actually. Harry wasn’t gay before he met me." 

Harry nods, “Yeah, he turned me.” 

Niall fills the room with laughter because oh, of course that was funny.  Zayn’s heard this story enough times at Louis and Harry’s family functions and friend’s birthday’s that he could write a book with every detail in every event that happened.

"I don’t know, actually, Niall. Was it at a party? Yeah, I think it was." Louis turns his head to meet Harry’s eyes as he nods. "Oh, yeah, that’s right! I think it was a bit of a drunken hook up and Harry had called me the next day asking if we could meet up." 

"Harry should thank me, actually." Zayn says, briefly to Niall.

"Why’s that?" Niall asks, shifting his body so he’s side on, his hips adjusted so his back leans against the arm rest and their eyes connect. Zayn’s stomach swoops.

"Louis got the call and was tossin’ up whether or not he should go. If it weren’t for me I don’t reckon he would’ve." 

"I remember you telling me that!" Harry beams, pointing his finger in Zayn’s direction. His face softens into a soft smile as he nods lazily, "Thanks, man." 

It really is amazing that Zayn remembers it better than the people who were actually involved. Two years wasn’t that long ago when the story constantly gets brought up.

"So just a kiss, eh?" Niall questions Harry, an eyebrow raised. 

"Yeah, pretty much." Harry replies, with Louis looking at him smugly. 

"He must be a good kisser, then." Niall says with a smile. Zayn tries his hardest not to tense up. 

"Oh, I am." Louis smiles with a wink. 

"Alright," Zayn announces, knowing that was the last he could handle. He taps Niall twice as a sign to hop off. They both stand up and Zayn remembers he left his cigarettes in his room. "I’m gonna go have a smoke." 

It’s not until he’s halfway across the room, readying to open his door so he can go outside as soon as possible when he hears Louis call out, “I’ll come!”

⋆

The fire almost hits Zayn’s cigarette before he steps outside into the cool air, eager to inhale _something_ that doesn’t involve Niall’s charming scent. 

It takes two point nine seconds until there’s the sound of footsteps behind him, shutting the glass sliding door so it blocks out the inside. Louis comes up to where Zayn’s leaning over the balcony’s edge. 

"It’s fuckin’ freezin’ out here!" He whines, wrapping his hands around himself, his teeth starting to chatter. 

Zayn doesn’t think twice about it. He bites down on his cigarette soft enough so it remains in his mouth and proceeds to shrug off his sweater. Louis makes a sound of protest but as soon as the warm cotton touches his skin, he sticks his arms underneath it and snuggles up into it, his shivering stopping instantly. 

"Thanks," He says, pressing his arm up against Zayn’s, "So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or will I have to squeeze it out of ya like always?" 

Zayn can’t help but smile at that. This is what Zayn likes the most about Louis. Sure, his quick-witted mind and humorous nature is perfect for when you’re in a terrible mood or in need of some entertainment, but when he’s serious for a second - he’s caring, calm and easily the most tranquil person to talk to.

"Uh," Zayn tilts his head back, itching at his stubble around his jaw. It’s always a lot more complicated when it comes to himself. "Isn’t it obvious?" 

Louis scoffs, “Fuck yeah.” He takes Zayn’s cigarette gingerly and inhales a drag before handing it back. “Just wanna know if _you_ know what’s wrong.” 

Zayn thinks about this for a moment. He glances out onto the road down below and it takes him a while to realize it’s close to empty. Not a car in sight.

"Shit," Louis says, noticing the same thing Zayn did, "what’s the time?" 

"Uh…" Zayn taps both his pockets, attempting to find his phone. He looks back into the apartment, knowing that his phone is somewhere in there. His eyes catch Niall and Harry on the couch and it really shouldn’t be so painful to see them laughing together so easily. 

He inhales the tobacco as though that’d cure his jealousy. 

"Okay, bud." Louis says, throwing his arm around Zayn’s shoulders to turn him back around. "Time’s not the problem here. The problem here, if I’m honest, is that you’re too bloody scared." 

Zayn doesn’t know why he feels the need to shake his head and deny it. But he does. 

"No, m’just—"

"You’re scared. I dunno why, I’m not a fucking psychologist, but I do know that you need to overcome your fears, Malik."

If it were anyone else, Zayn would’ve frowned and tried to start an argument at how he’s not scared, he’s patient. But because there’s a familiar ache inside him as Louis spells it out, like he should’ve accepted it earlier, he doesn’t fight. 

"Do you reckon I should, like, talk to him?" 

"I reckon anythin’ you do now will be better than this. He’s probably thinkin’ that you don’t enjoy his company at all; by the way you shut off ‘round him." 

Louis takes the cigarette again, as though he hadn’t just filled Zayn’s body with guilt and regret. 

"Louis, fuck, I don’t want him thinking that at all." Zayn stresses, so much that he couldn’t find himself to care that Louis had just finished the last part of his cigarette. 

Louis only raises his eyebrows and shows his tight-lipped smile, the one that depicts he’s right and there’s no two-ways about it. 

"Well, then," He says, pressing the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray. "You should know what to do now, shouldn’t you?" He taps Zayn’s shoulder twice, "Thanks for the cigarette. And the sweater." 

He opens the sliding door, making the two boys inside look up. Niall’s eyes meet Zayn’s straight away. Zayn swallows tightly. 

"Oh, yeah," Louis says, pausing at the door, "it’s five past two in the morning, by the way." 

He shuts the door and Zayn stays, leaning against the balcony’s fence as he goes to light another cigarette. He waves good-bye as Louis and Harry get up to leave. 

Niall comes back into sight after a few minutes as he walks the couple to the front door, wishing them on their way. He points to Zayn’s direction curiously and raises his eyebrows, silently asking if he’s alright. 

Zayn nods, telepathically telling him he’ll see him in the morning. If it weren’t for the faint bags underneath Niall’s eyes and the sleepy smile he returns, Zayn would think he’d still be energized enough to keep going until the sun comes up.

But he just gives a short wave and walks into his room, leaving Zayn outside, waiting until the last flicker of his lit joint fades away. 

⋆

He hadn’t realized how purely freezing the world outside is at three in the morning before. Zayn should text Louis and curse at him for not returning his sweater but he already knows what he’d reply to that with. He’d tell him that was part of his plan; that without warmth, Zayn wouldn’t be able to stay outside for much longer. 

Zayn doesn’t know when Louis came to be such a sadistic matchmaker - or, when he became so invested in Zayn’s life. But he’s smart, he’ll give him that.

He walks inside, the sudden heat capturing him straight away, and begins to pick up the empty glasses from around the couch. He brings them over to the bench before placing them individually into the dishwasher. He’ll start it tomorrow, he thinks, so it doesn’t wake up Niall. 

Then he takes the pile of empty pizza boxes and proceeds to flatten them out. He’s in the middle of throwing them in the recycling bin when he hears the sound of soft footsteps coming into the room.  

"S’if you’re still up." Niall says, tone so sleepy it’s a mystery that he’s even standing up. 

Zayn looks at him, dressed in a hooded jumper and loose trousers, combined with slippers that tap on the kitchen tiles. His hair’s a mess but it strangely suits him, in Zayn’s eyes, of course.

"Thought you went to bed." Zayn replies, squishing down the boxes so they fit. 

"Yeah, I did for a second. Before I realized how bloody thirsty pizza makes me." He says, grabbing a glass and turning on the tap. 

"It’s the salt."

"Fuckin’ salt." He says with a smile before chugging down the entire glass in one go.  

He wipes his mouth and leaves the empty glass on the bench. They stand like that for a few seconds, breathing in the air around them like it were foreign, as though they need a second to take it all in. 

There’s no noise at this time of night - no traffic, no people, no music from the other rooms - nothing but simplicity and eeriness, making the environment seem like it’s only them and nothing else. 

Zayn wonders what it would’ve been like if the other two never came. Would they have sat on separate sides of the couch, distant and afraid? Would they still have stayed up until three in the morning, when the Earth is quiet for a moment, or would they have gone into their rooms straight away, said goodnight and slept alone? 

They meet eyes and this seems to trigger Niall’s words, a smirk on his lips like what he’s about to say is suggestive. He leans back against the counter and crosses his ankles, looking relaxed as he reflects his character. 

"Just a kiss, huh?" 

Zayn doesn’t know what he was expecting; he never does when it comes to Niall. 

"What?" 

"Harry and Louis." He clears up; referring to the conversation they had earlier that evening with Harry and Louis. "One kiss was all it took." 

Zayn nods, “Yeah.” 

Niall’s smirk breaks into a smile and Zayn almost wants to strangle him for being so irresistible. Louis was right, he is scared. 

"We should try it one time." Niall suggests, his tone playful. He’s joking, of course he is, but his eyes linger at Zayn’s longer than necessary before they break away, signifying something else. "Night, mate."

That word almost stings so much it makes Zayn cringe. “Mate’s” don’t do this. 

"Night, mate." 

Or maybe they do. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

It’s a strange sense of relaxation when he hears Liam’s voice. It’s not as though Zayn’s forgotten how it sounded when he spoke with a smile, or how he laughed at something Zayn said, but it’s almost renewed like an antique with an expensive value. It’s rewarding. 

And with Niall in the other room, the sound of a video game echoing through the walls, Zayn can’t help but imagine the three of them here. It’d be simple, he thinks. Because he knows that they’d hit it off straight away - it’s impossible not to with a personality like Niall’s - and Liam can have his room back with the exception that Niall just _has_ to sleep in Zayn’s bed. It’s practically a win/win situation. 

"—Ayn?" 

Zayn tunes back into Liam’s voice, sheepishly admitting that he had drifted off for a second there. 

"Oh, sorry, mate. What was that?" 

He hears a chuckle, then, “Are you getting distracted there?” 

"No, I - Uh, was just thinkin’." 

"Yeah?" Liam asks, in the tone of voice he always has when he’s a mixture of concerned and interested. "What about?" 

"Uh, you, basically. And how you’ll be moving back in soon. With Niall." 

"Oh, so we’re not kicking him out?" 

Zayn’s breathing stops. His stomach sinks and he swallows harshly as he thinks about kicking Niall out into the world. Available and unprepared for people to snatch him up and be out of Zayn’s reach, unable to be protected— 

"I’m kidding, babe." Liam reassures, filled with worry as he notices Zayn’s silence. "Niall can stay as long as he wants. Since, you know, you guys have a thing." 

Zayn clears his throat, glad that Liam’s not able to witness his shy smile and red cheeks. “We don’t have a thing.” 

"Uh huh, sure." Liam says, unconvinced. "So, a boy your age comes into our apartment and you invite him to move in straight away, then you proceed to tell your best mate everything about him each time you talk, and _then_ go off imagining what’d be like for you and him in the future? Ah, yeah, sounds to me like there’s no ‘thing’ at _all_." 

Zayn scoffs, amazed, “Since when did you become such a sarcastic butt?” 

Liam barks out a laugh, “Sorry, mate, my family’s corrupted me.” 

"All the more reason why you should come down here sooner, then." 

"Well, Zayn, I might be coming back sooner than you think." 

Zayn’s about to ask when exactly, until a familiar welcomed figure steps into Zayn’s eyesight - dressed lazily with a game console in one of his hands. 

He nods as a hello and Zayn smiles at him without meaning to. It’s become sort of a reflex, really. 

"Did ya wanna verse me after ya speak to Liam?" He asks, unintentionally batting his eyelashes. 

"Hang on, Li." Zayn says, and then drops the phone at his ear to his side, "What game?" He asks as though it matters. Truth is, it could be Barbie and he’d still play. 

"Uh, Call Of Duty. You down?" 

Zayn nods just as he hears a frazzled, “Is that Niall?!” from his handheld phone. 

Zayn brings it up to his ear again, “Yes, Liam.” 

He tries to ignore Niall’s growing smile. 

"Niall!" Liam calls, as though he’d be able to hear him. "Zayn wants to suck you off!" 

"Oh my God." 

Liam collapses in a fit of laughter as Zayn’s eyes widen and Niall frowns in confusion. 

"What?" He says, the smile still there, "What’d he say?" 

"Uh," Zayn scratches his nose and clears his throat, "he said he can’t wait to meet you." 

⋆

Niall’s room is surprisingly cleaner than what Zayn half expected it to be. He had seen it a couple of times, a glimpse of the unmade bed and scattered clothes, but today it’s bare like he had taken the time to tidy it up. 

His bed is next to Zayn as he walks in, since now it’s not _really_ Liam’s bed at all. Liam would have it completely made, the sheets tucked in on either side and the pillows propped up and neat. Yet Niall’s managed to make it his own, careless and casual like himself. 

The television is more like a box and it’s placed in front of the bed, since the rooms are only a certain size, there’s no space for chairs or couches. His wardrobe’s next to it, a small, narrow object that Zayn’s not used to - since his own wardrobe is something bigger. 

They sit at the head of the bed as Niall sets up the game, telling Zayn to help himself to the packet of Cheetos next to him. 

Zayn laughs, “Am _I_ the guest now?” 

Niall pauses for a second, looking somewhat sheepishly. Then shrugs and says, “I guess so.” 

"Hm," Zayn smiles, grabbing a hand full of Cheetos and popping one in his mouth, "it’s nice." 

"Is it?" Niall raises an eyebrow, almost suggestively. He fiddles around with the console for a little bit until he selects the aspects he wants. "Won’t be for long, I’m a real gamer." 

"Is that right?" Zayn challenges, picking up his own console and getting ready as the game counts down from three. 

⋆

Zayn ends up losing, four to one, and Niall can’t stop bragging over how good he was. 

"I seriously smashed you, mate! Gotta give it to ya, though, thought you were comin’ back for a second there." He laughs, shaking his head, "I let you win on that one game, y’know. ‘Cause I didn’t want you to go off cryin’." 

"Oh, yeah, okay." Zayn nods sarcastically, shoving at Niall’s arm. 

"You know it’s true, Malik. Admit it." 

"You are such a twat when it comes to winning." Zayn tells him, it the most polite way possible, of course. "Admit it." 

"Hey, no way." Niall pouts, trying to shove at Zayn’s arm in return but only ends up touching it and pushing him the _slightest_ bit. "I am very humble." 

"You’re also very weak," Zayn counters, secretly adoring the way Niall’s face transforms into shock like he’d just been elected president. "C’mon, what was that? A tap?" 

There’s sudden excitement in Niall’s eyes - Zayn had seen it in Louis’ eyes many times before, the kind of excitement that usually terrifies Zayn - but with Niall, it sends chills up his spine and he’s sure he wasn’t smiling ten seconds ago. 

"Did ya wanna fight me, huh?" Niall asks, eyes bright and daring, already kneeling on top of his bed. 

Zayn mimics his position and faces him. Niall wiggles his eyebrows smiles slightly, his hand gesturing for Zayn to make the first move. 

The first move. 

He doesn’t want to fight Niall at all. He wants his first move to be a tender kiss or at least a touch of hands or an arm wrapped around each other as they watch a movie. He looks at Niall and he wants to wrap him up and hold him because he’s such a great person to hug - and he wants to keep him _away_ from violence, not be the one causing it. 

"I would," Zayn tells him, tempted to just reach out his hand and touch him, "But—" 

The doorbell rings and it grabs the attention of both of them. Zayn’s first instinct is to frown, knowing that it’s either Louis and Harry or someone delivering their mail since it got sent to the wrong address. 

He starts to move off the bed, before he feels a hand grab his wrist, stopping him from moving. 

The touch is so warm and if it weren’t for the stopping of movement, Zayn would’ve paused anyway. Because Niall’s hand is laced around Zayn’s wrist and Niall’s looking at him like it’s the first time he’s seen a shooting star. 

"But what?" He asks, suddenly not smiling anymore. 

"But…" Zayn hesitates, looking out through Niall’s doorway to the door, where it’s knocked on again a few times, louder. "But there’s someone at the door." 

Niall lets out a small puff of air and slips his hand away from Zayn. The coldness that reaches his skin from the absence shouldn’t be this defiant. 

"It’s probably just Harry and Louis." He says, sinking back down from his knees as he picks up one of the controllers again. 

Zayn opens his mouth to say something, afraid that what he said wasn’t the right answer. It wasn’t - he was supposed to say the thoughts that have crossed his mind the first time they met - but the knocks are there again, this time they’re louder and more impatient. 

"Okay, okay!" Zayn calls as he walks out of Niall’s room, "I’m coming!" 

When he opens the door it’s not Harry or Louis. 

"Hello?" Zayn greets questionably. 

The man is noticeably taller and larger than Zayn, and is wearing a singlet that shows off his sleeve of tattoos and a pair of jeans that desperately needs replacing. He bumps Zayn’s shoulder as he invites himself in, face written with rage as he fills the room with cheap cologne and leftover smoke. 

He walks into the middle of the living room, looking around like he’s searching for something. Zayn stares at him in disbelief, wondering just who this guy is and why he’s in his apartment. 

"Uh, can I help you?" Zayn asks with annoyance, pausing with the door open and hoping that this lost man will take the hint and leave. 

But by the way his feet are planted to the ground with his chest puffed out and a frown edged on his forehead, Zayn thinks this stranger is here for a reason. 

"Where is he?" He growls, looking Zayn dead in the eye. 

His lips are chapped like he’s been in the cold for far too long and his teeth are a shade of yellow from all the cigarettes he obviously smokes from the smell that radiates him. His eyes are faded, dark and also a slight shade of yellow can be seen around his pupils, an extraordinary giveaway that he does not live a healthy lifestyle whatsoever. 

His balance is a bit off, too, which may mean that he isn’t completely sober, either. 

"Who’re you lookin’ for mate?" Zayn asks, not entirely looking for an answer because quite frankly he couldn’t care. "You seem lost, nobody’s—"

"Shut up you Paki prick." He spits, moving around the room now, his voice low and frustrated. "I know he’s fuckin’ here don’t lie to me!" 

It takes two seconds for Zayn to grow with complete rage, then another second for his entire stomach to drop with a sudden realization. His eyes dart towards Niall’s room, thankful to see that he hasn’t come out yet. 

He swallows his fear, though he doesn’t care for himself - this guy could dangle him off this very building three stories high - but he cares for Niall, the probably petrified boy hibernating in his room in complete shock that his old, abusive roommate has come for him. 

So Zayn acts fast, wanting to get this disgusting male out of his sight. 

"Sir, unless it’s me your looking for then I can’t help you." He tries as calmly as he can, trying not to talk with a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. "I’m the only one livin’ here." 

The man turns his head from where he was looking at the decking, now glaring at Zayn like he had just offended his mother. He steps closer and Zayn swallows again, judging whether he could have enough time and strength to throw him out and call the police. 

But then he’s being thrown up against the wall and held there as the man wraps his fist around the front of his shirt, pressing hard on Zayn’s chest. 

"Listen here, kid." He grumbles, squinting his eyes at him, "I don’t like liars at all, ya hear me? I know you’re fuckin’ hidin’ him somewhere, and I’m gonna find him before I kill ya!" 

They lock eyes and Zayn tries his hardest not to look towards Niall’s room again. So he keeps the eye contact and prays with all his might that this guy’s patience and persistence will wear out soon. 

But Zayn knows it’s only a matter of time before he looks in the other rooms. 

"What’s his name, then?" 

The man looks at him like he just grew another head, “Don’t play dumb with me, punk. Ya know his name.” 

He lets out a short huff and steps away from Zayn, letting him out of his grasp and turning around like he was only leftovers on his plate. Zayn watches as he makes his way over to Niall’s room and his heartbeat triples. 

"I think I know who you’re lookin’ for, actually." Zayn calls out, and then lets out a mental sigh of relief when the man stops before he reaches Niall’s doorway and turns around. He raises an eyebrow and says, "Is his name Zayn?" 

There’s like a switch in his body that turns from angry to _angry_ , and he’s charging towards Zayn before he can even flinch a muscle. 

"His name is not fuckin’ Zayn, it’s Niall and he belongs to _me_ not _you_." He spits out the last word as though Zayn were some parasite and glances at him up and down. "How much are you even payin’ him, huh? How much?" 

This time, Zayn digs his nails into the palms of his hands. He can feel his own rage boiling up inside of him and in that moment he’s not sure if he’d be able to stop it. 

"I don’t fuckin’ _pay_ him anything!" Zayn sneers at him, shoving at his chest roughly and points to the door, "Now get the fuck outta here!" 

And instead of a flash of fist or a fit of anger, the man simply smiles. He looks around the room again, suddenly pleased and content, which makes Zayn sufficiently surprised. 

"So he _is_ here," He says, and Zayn swears he felt his breathing stop the same time his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. "Thanks for that." 

"No, he’s—" Zayn’s in the midst of beginning to shift his reassurance but it’s already too late. 

Niall’s at the doorway of his bedroom, looking completely horrified and hesitant like a scared animal that dislikes attention. He locks eyes with Zayn first, communicating a sincere apology without moving his mouth. Zayn glances between the man and Niall numerous times, and watches the moment with distaste and regret as the intruder notices Niall. 

"Ah! There he is!" He beams, instantly crossing over to put his arm around Niall, pecking his cheek like they’ve known each other for years. "Why’d you run away from me, huh? What happened, babe?" 

Zayn watches with fuming eyes as Niall drops his head and doesn’t say a word. He’s so damn small and submissive and Zayn doesn’t like it at all. 

"He wanted to get away from you, you’re a—"

"Don’t you _dare_ tell me what he wants!" The shouts echo throughout the small apartment, his voice is vulgar and Niall looks like he’s stopped breathing. " _I’m_ the one who gave him a home, aren’t I? Not this fuckin’ shitty little block with a twig-sized terrorist, alright?"

Zayn’s eyes widen and suddenly everything Liam’s taught him about violence and how it never solves anything escapes his mind in a second. He breathes out heavily, and the next time he blinks he swears he sees red. 

"Get. The _fuck_. Out!" 

He doesn’t even chance to look at Niall. He knows he’s probably terrified him to his wit’s end but the only thing running through his mind is different scenarios of how to kill this bastard. 

But when the man looks at Zayn with a smug smile, like he’s _won_ , is when Zayn gives up on the muttered tone and finally shouts. 

" _NOW_!" 

He sees Niall flinch and back away from _him_. He realizes how he must look right now - fuming with rage, fists clenched by his side, forehead crossed like it’s permanent, face burning like his eyes, veins visible at his neck - and he has a wave of worry. That maybe he’s scared Niall away, maybe he _does_ want to go back to the man who gave him a proper home. 

"Woah, fine. We’re leaving." 

Zayn leans his palms against the kitchen bench beside him, lengthening out his arms with his head hung between them. His ears are ringing but he doesn’t know why and for a moment all he can concentrate on is levelling out his breathing. 

Until he hears a soft voice, one so timid you wouldn’t think it’d come from a teenage boy. 

"No." 

Zayn turns his head in time to see Niall swallowing his fear, trying to be tough for himself. 

"No?" The man questions, stepping away from Niall, his hand still on his shoulder. " _No_?" 

"I just wanna… I think I—" Niall sighs, stopping himself. Then takes a deep breath and says, "I want to stay here." 

Zayn judges the man’s expression carefully. Except there’s no change in it. Just thorough disbelief and a sense of calm that somehow appears more frightening than madness. 

"Are you sure?" He asks, moving his hand up to play with Niall’s hair. Zayn grits his teeth. "Don’t you wanna show your friend here how special—?" 

"He said he wants to stay." 

Not a second passes before the expression changes. The whole entire mood of the man’s being affects all of them like a tidal wave being washed over a town. He snaps, first to yell at Zayn to shut up, then to yell at Niall. 

"You’re _mine_ remember?" He shouts, grabbing at Niall’s collar, shaking him. Zayn crosses the floor. "I paid you! I fucking _paid_ you!" 

Zayn doesn’t even have to think twice before he connects his fist to the predator’s jaw. 

He watches him fall back, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he collapses with a loud ‘thud’. 

Zayn shakes his hand out, his knuckles stinging with pain from the collision. 

"Fucking twat." Zayn spits, disgusted. 

He turns back to find Niall not next to him, but by a wall, his back pressed to it with his arms wrapped around his knees tightly. His chin’s tucked between his knees, making him look like the perfect ball. 

Zayn looks at his already-bruising knuckles and lets out a deep sigh. He walks over to Niall and slides down the same wall so they’re sitting next to each other. 

The precipitant silence is excruciating - the sound of the traffic outside seems odd and out of place as it’s the loudest thing they can hear. 

Zayn’s ears still ring like a soldier near an explosion and he wonders if Niall feels it too. He’s staring straight on, focusing on something but it’s really nothing at all. He seems completely statuesque, like he’s oblivious to the fact that Zayn’s even there. 

So Zayn brings his own knees to his chest and mimics Niall’s position and waits. 

Waits for Niall to say something. Waits for the knocked out male to wake up. Waits for the sudden phone call to ring out.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall, the stinging of his knuckles being the only thing that keeps him aware. 

⋆

A million thoughts run through Zayn’s mind, like a kaleidoscope of possibilities and threats that could happen if he doesn’t act now. 

Niall still sits, closed in on himself as though he’s afraid to move or speak. He’s chewing at his nails anxiously, chin dipped between his knees as he frowns. 

The view outside shows that it’s late afternoon, and the sun will be setting in a few hours. The man’s still lying unconscious for five whole minutes now. Zayn’s skin grows cold with the thought of him waking. 

"I never thought he’d come." 

Zayn turns his head to Niall’s soft, weak voice. He’s scared and overwhelmed, but when he finally meets Zayn’s eyes he looks more apologetic than anything else.  

Zayn tries to comfort him by bringing kindness to his smile, but Niall’s eyes suddenly widen and he sucks in a deep breath of fear as the predator next to him starts to stir. 

Getting up immediately, Zayn crosses the floor and hits the man once more before he can even blink his eyes open. 

He’s dead still again, which puts Niall more at ease. 

But he’ll never be completely at ease, will he? If this guy is still roaming around outside with the need of Niall, then there will be no comfort in that. Niall needs closure. 

"We need to call the police." He says at confirmation, almost to himself. 

This makes Niall head jerk up, his body tense. Zayn reaches for the phone before Niall’s leaping up onto his feet and crossing the room faster than Zayn has the chance to type in one digit. 

The phone’s grabbed out of his grip and slammed down with a stressed hand. 

"No - no police." Niall pleads, shaking his head repetitively. "Mate, promise me you won’t call ‘em." 

Zayn’s still half concerned and half in shock before he can even process what Niall’s asking of him. 

"Niall," He says, measuredly, "There is a tress-passing, abusive and psychotic prick on our living room floor." He picks up the phone again, looking at it as a no-brainer. "I’m gettin’ him arrested, _mate_." 

He dials the number and holds the phone to his ear, watching as Niall looks at him with anxious eyes and a bitten lip. 

The call finally sends through and someone answers. 

"Hi, yes, I’d just like to report—"

Niall snatches the phone out of his grip the second time and hangs up. Leaving Zayn bewildered and Niall looking evermore apologetic than before, as though he didn’t mean to do that. 

"Niall, what the fuck, man?" Zayn asks, unable to keep his own stress levels to a minimum, "You can’t just hang up on those people!" 

"Fuck- Shit, I’m sorry." Niall squeezes his eyes shut, bringing a hand to run over his face briefly before looking at Zayn again. "It’s not as simple as that, though. Can’t just let the cops take care of this sort of shit. It’s not that simple." 

"I don’t—" Zayn pauses, stopping himself from arguing and takes in a breath instead. 

He figures that if Niall’s brought himself into this then he’d know better than anyone on how to get out of it. Besides, Zayn’s also just really glad that Niall’s talking to him again.  

"So, what do we do, then?" 

Niall’s eyes flash a mixture of surprise and alarm - as though he weren’t expecting that response - and scratches at the bridge of his nose. 

"Well, uh, I suppose we should start of by gettin’ him outta here." He suggests, tilting his chin towards the unresponsive and undoubtedly heavy man. 

Zayn pulls his eyebrows together, “How’re we gonna do that if he’s still knocked out? And even if he weren’t, there’d be no way he’d leave by himself.” 

"We should kill ‘im."

"Niall."

He shrugs, “Nobody would know. S’not like he’s got any relations with anybody or anythin’.” 

"He’s got nobody? No one at all?" Zayn asks, feeling like they could use this as an advantage. Niall nods and Zayn sparks an idea. "Okay, grab his legs." 

He moves to the man’s head, ready to hold his arms. He braces himself and waits, until he looks up at Niall again and sees that he hasn’t moved. 

"Malik, are you crazy?" 

"Not crazy." Zayn says, then smirks a little, "Just inventive." 

"Fuckin’ hell," Niall curses under his breath, trying to disguise the small smile pricking at the edge of his lips. He slumps over to the body, disgusted at what he sees. "Man, I don’t even wanna touch the guy." 

"It’s alright," Zayn reassures, trying to be as soothing as possible, "Just, like, look at me. You don’t even have to know that you’re touchin’ him." 

Niall nods, swallowing down his obvious distaste of this idea. But he bends down anyway and Zayn follows suit instantly, both of them grabbing the limbs on either side of the body. 

Zayn counts to three and they lift up, the room filling with low groans and panting at the sudden weight they’ve started to carry. He wishes deeply that Niall’s old roommate was a skinny weakling instead. 

"I’ll go first, yeah?" Zayn tells him, already turning clockwise towards the door. "So, you gotta tell me when the coast is clear."

"Dude," Niall breathes, shaking his head slowly when he follows Zayn as they walk towards the door, facing each other, "It looks like we’ve just killed ‘im and now we’re tryin’ to hide the body." 

"Well," Zayn says with difficulty, adjusting the body so he can push open the door, "If anyone sees, our defence is that he’s passed out and we’re takin’ him home." 

"Good thinkin’." Niall agrees, then adds as an afterthought, almost to himself, "Good lad."

⋆

The air stings Zayn’s bare skin as the cold hits, the breeze shooting through like arrows in a war zone, unavoidable and sending chills down his spine frequently. The weight in Zayn’s hands had become easier to carry after the flight of stairs - whether it was because of the strength in his arms that began to build or the numbness through his nerves like splinters - Zayn’s only glad that they’re finally outside without once being caught. 

He wants to throw the hideous man in the dumpster or behind it, wants to beat him to a pulp and leave him there to dry out until his bones rot into the ground. 

But he knows that once the sun rises and a new day occurs; the anger will settle and compulsion will kick in. Zayn’s only a fighter when he needs to be, but he’s not a killer. 

They drop the weight next to a shabby wall filled with graffiti and splatters of liquid that stinks. The man’s hygiene and clothes blend into the scene, almost as though he lived here. 

"Looks like a homeless man." Niall comments, kicking the man’s shoe pointedly. 

"He will be, soon. Hopefully." Zayn replies, trying not to grit his teeth again. 

"Zayn," Niall looks at him pleadingly, "we’re not calling—"

"Whatever it is you did, Niall, can’t be as bad as what this asshole has done to you, yeah?" Zayn doesn’t mean to interrupt but his on his toes and his temperature’s decreasing as his frustration is doing the exact opposite. "We’ll work it out." 

Niall sighs. Mist flies out of his mouth like a free spirit drifting off and vanishing into nothing. He glances at his worst nightmare again and gets that same look he did when he was crouched up against the wall, completely baffled that he saw his predator’s face again. 

"We should go, yeah?" Niall says, turning back to Zayn. It’s not until Zayn stares at Niall’s lips when he realizes they’re blue and shivering. 

"Sure, Ni." 

He waits until Niall’s a few steps closer to the door before he turns back to the enemy and kicks him two or three times in the stomach. 

He thinks of it like a punching bag. But more of a kicking human. 

"Zayn!" Niall calls back to him, shouting ever so softly, afraid someone might hear. 

"Alright, just," Zayn stares at the man’s face, picturing how he smiled at him the moment he knew Niall was in the house, "once more." 

He brings back his leg but moves it downwards, releasing it like a bounce on a trampoline, hitting him straight in the groin. Zayn grins with satisfaction, meeting up with Niall as he puts a welcoming arm around him. 

He’s afraid to think that Niall would ask why he has his arm around him, but his answer would simply be because he looked cold. 

But then they enter the lobby of their apartment block filled with heating and Zayn’s arm still hangs around Niall’s waist and not a word of protest is spoken. 

⋆

It’s bare and uncomfortable when Zayn walks into the apartment again. It’s strange and modified, it’s troublesome and fearful. It’s something that has the power to send thrilled sensations down the spines of those who step foot into it, like a graveyard with a shady history. 

It reminds Zayn of when he and Liam stumbled across an abandoned shed, the kind that was only talked about in spooky stories late at night by teenagers with a nothing on but a shabby torch. The walls would creak and the slightest sound would make you think there was some kind of masked villain right behind you.

It’s the same sort of feeling in his own home, now. Or maybe it’s not the surroundings at all. Maybe it’s to do with the fact that the man who has the potential to murder him with his own hands is left unconscious on the same street in which they live. 

"I still think we should call the cops." He blurts out, fear trickling the insides of his body, protection swaying over him like a wave coming onto shore. 

Niall stills. His body remains placed yet he closes the door behind him slowly, hesitant. 

Something other than worry and fright captivate the cores of his eyes - guilt. He’s ashamed, his head now facing the floor as he walks towards the kitchen bench, Zayn watching his every move. 

"I may as well just tell ya, shouldn’t I?" Niall sighs, his hands holding onto the bench as he leans backwards, "I mean, we are livin’ together. You deserve to know." 

"Niall," Zayn steps closer, softness in his voice, "if you don’t want to then you really don’t have to. It’s cool." 

Niall meets his eyes and he looks at Zayn like he’s seeing a rainbow for the first time. He’s in awe and filled with something else that Zayn can’t place; but then Niall shakes his head once and drops their gaze, sighing once more. 

"Nah, I gotta tell ya. I can’t - I gotta explain." 

Zayn feels the mood in the room change, something like overcast in the way Niall’s voice turns tense and Zayn’s stomach quivers in anticipation. 

He gestures to the couch, “Should I be sittin’ for this?” 

Niall cracks a smile but it only lasts a second. “Yeah, o’right.” 

The sit on the couch but they face each other, Zayn on the right and Niall on the left, feeding off each other’s vibes as they fade to importance. 

"Before I start, y’know, you probably gonna want me gone afterwards, so," Niall leans over unexpectedly, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s waist, "it’s been a good run, thanks for lettin’ me stay." 

Zayn hugs him back without hesitation, denying the fact that this was good-bye. He squeezes him once before letting him go, then makes sure Niall’s looking him in the eyes before he starts to talk. 

"I’d never kick you out, Niall." He says honestly, pathetically craving the already missed warmth of him in his arms. 

"Even if I was a murderer?" 

Zayn’s eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead, “You’re a _murderer_?” 

Then a sound so pure and filled with life captivates the room and it feels like sleepy mornings and cosy nights all in one - a sound that’s missed like the sun after a year’s worth of rain. 

Niall’s laugh could’ve gone on forever, but it stops and the lightness in Zayn’s chest goes with it. 

"Nah, man, ‘course not." He says, his smile still visible, "But that was funny."

Zayn sees the hurt behind Niall’s facade of laughter. He sees it in the faltering of his lips, the glisten of his eyes that somehow disappear the more he blinks. He’s struggling to form words in the back of his mind to communicate the reasoning behind all this, but he’s masking it with playfulness that Zayn’s succumbed to. 

But now, Zayn looks at him carefully, studying his eyes as they fall to his shoes. There’s a part of him that wants him to hurry up, to spit it out so it’s all there to see and there’s nothing left to say. And there’s another part of him that wants Niall to say nothing at all, wants to only hold him without words and let him forget his past no matter how frightful it may be. 

The clouds cover the sun and it casts through the window, shadowing one half of the blond boy’s face. 

"I moved from Ireland because me mum couldn’t afford to have us all in the house we were in." He begins, gazing at his fingers as they play together. "She said ‘Niall, why don’t you go to London? You can live with nan," so I did, y’know, live with her. ‘Til she died, that is."

There’s a small break in his words and Zayn uses the opportunity to cut in a sorrowful, “Sorry to hear that,” but fights the urge to rest his hand on Niall’s knee in comfort. 

And Niall waves off the apology as though he were shooing away an insect, the sadness of his eyes are evident in the memory but it fades as soon as it comes. 

"Anyway, after mum found out, she asked where I was headed to next. Truth is, I had no fuckin’ clue. I was hopin’ to move back in with her or somethin’." He rolls his eyes, almost to himself. He puffs out a short sigh and says, "And because I didn’t wanna disappoint her anymore and because I needed to make a shitload more money, I – well, I basically became an escort." 

Zayn’s muscles tense for a second; causing him to fidget in his position so his foot is tucked underneath one of his thighs. He swallows in worry, knowing that if he expressed anything else, Niall won’t continue. 

"When I met Daniel he was so nice I couldn’t believe my luck! He paid me more than recommended and offered me a place to stay. He said, ‘don’t worry ‘bout payin’ for it just yet, we’ll figure somethin’ out’ and I thought that was sick." 

And then Niall’s enthusiasm drops like a coin on carpet, silent but changing. He rubs at his nose a few times before his hands fall to his lap and he glances out the window as he continues. “Then the first night he came home drunk, was the second week I think, he told me to pay up. When I said I didn’t have the money he laughed and said that’s not what he meant. And ‘cause I didn’t wanna argue or get kicked out I did what I was told and,” he shrugs, returning his distant gaze to Zayn’s, only for a second, before dropping to his hands again, “I guess that’s how I paid him from then on.” 

"Niall—"

"That’s why I don’t want the coppers involved ‘cause it’s kinda my fault too, isn’t it? And that’s illegal, I think. And, god, Zayn, if my mum found out I’d be screwed. I’d be deader than the deadest piece of meat—"

"Niall." Zayn says again and this time Niall listens. His body sinks lower into the cushions of the couch like he’s prepared to get scolded. But instead, Zayn reaches out and puts a hand to Niall’s cheek, his fingertips slowly brushing down to Niall’s jawline, to the tip of his chin. He tilts it upwards so their eyes meet, the blue of them washing away any other colour that consumes Zayn’s mind. 

"Don’t be scared, okay? You’re safe. You’re here now, yeah?" Zayn feels Niall nod against his hand and he pulls him into a hug. Niall falls into it like a boneless ragdoll, his arms wrapping themselves around Zayn’s waist as he buries his head into Zayn’s chest. Zayn kisses the top of his forehead, his thumb stroking Niall’s back in a soothing rhythm, like a wordless lullaby. 

"You’re safe." He repeats in a whisper, letting the words bounce off the walls like an echo in the silence, hoping Niall believes it. 

The room subtracts light as the evening wears on. The traffic outside and the calls of birds is heard over the soft sounds of breathing. Niall’s chest rises and falls steadily with each breath, his eyelids fluttering shut as Zayn’s fingers form a dance routine on his t-shirt. 

He couldn’t picture rough hands touching Niall in any way possible. Because it’s _not_ possible. Nobody in the right mind would even think about hurting him or putting him in an uncomfortable or overwhelming situation. And it’s sickening - it’s so sickening that Zayn has to tilt his head back and breathe in fresh air - to imagine Niall scared and helpless and taken advantage of from someone so cruel and unsafe. 

The fact that Niall thinks _he_ could somehow be in the wrong is preposterous. It disturbs every nerve in his body and he wants to hold Niall tighter, kiss him until they both forget that he was ever mistreated. 

The sun sets from the window and Zayn watches it with blinking eyes. He feels Niall’s breathing slow and notices how his mouth has fallen slack with sleep. 

It’s impossible to feel anger with him there lying on his chest but that doesn’t stop the growing feeling that’s rumbling through his system like a volcano ready to explode. 

And it may have to do with the fact that he’s seen flowers being pulled out of the soil his whole life - or that the bullies he’s had to face have never been rightfully punished - but finally the volcano inside him erupts, leading him to tilt back his head and blink away the tears that well, unable to close them without seeing stars surrounded by the sea. 

Eventually he does hold Niall tighter and presses kisses to the top of his head, his mind filled with prayers that the man downstairs doesn’t wake up. Eventually the birds stop chirping and the sun is no longer visible. Eventually Zayn swallows down the sadness and falls asleep, too.   
 

 


	7. Chapter 7

It’s dark and cloudy - like a chamber of smoke and nightmares combined into one. Zayn’s not entirely sure what he’s doing here but he knows with every fibre of his being that he has to get out. 

He sticks out his arms with his fingers stretched to their extent, waving about hesitantly like a blind man, trying to find any sign of exit. 

"Zayn!" 

The call is distant, like a family member trying to catch the attention of their child in an amusement park. It’s distant, but it’s known. 

"Zayn! Help!" 

Zayn swivels on his heel, his head switching every which way to find some source of light. Then, suddenly, in the very corner of the room there he is. 

A wobbling light hangs from the ceiling, casting down onto Niall. The sight is enough for Zayn’s veins to run cold, his nostrils flaring in rage as he bolts towards him. 

But that’s the thing about bolts, they have two different meanings. 

His ankles are bounded, bolted into the floor like cement, impossible to move. 

Zayn lets out an aggravated scream. The words ‘help, Zayn, help’ continue to cry out of Niall’s mouth. He’s tied to a wooden chair, naked and exposed. His ankles and wrists are strapped down with nowhere to go and he’s crying, tears streaming down his cheeks like a river of fear. 

"Hold on, Niall!" Zayn shouts desperately, kneeling down to try and unbuckle what’s stopping him from being a saviour. 

"Zayn! Help me!" 

Zayn looks back at Niall. A hand is on his shoulder. The hand becomes an arm as it reaches the light and eventually the man’s whole body is in view. 

He doesn’t have a face, but when a smile appears like a cocky smirk - one Zayn remembers all too vividly - he realizes it’s Daniel. 

"Hey, beautiful." He coos, running his finger across Niall’s jawline. 

"Get away from him!" Zayn screams but Daniel doesn’t bat an eyelid. "Don’t you hear me?! I said back off!" 

Still, it’s like a scream in the dark that doesn’t reach him. It’s as though Zayn’s yelling to himself, like a man watching a footy match and screaming through the television at the players who obviously can’t hear. 

"So he _is_ here?" Daniel asks, the smirk overriding his whole face. The words turn to echoes, "He _is_ here, he _is_. Thanks for that. He’s here." 

Daniel’s smirk leaves and two eyes appear, staring straight at Zayn like a scold. He disappears entirely, except for his hand. Niall shudders underneath his touch, his tears dropping down to his chin. 

Zayn tries to run again and this time he’s able. The bolts have been loosened and he can run. 

He’s running and he’s running, the sounds of laughter barrelling through the room. No matter how far or fast he goes; Niall and the old roommate don’t seem to be getting closer. It’s like an endless corridor and the light is an illusion. 

"Zayn, help." Niall pleads, no longer screaming. His words are softer, petite. And it’s like a whisper is more desperate than a scream. 

"I’m coming…" Zayn pants, trying to run again. 

The laughter continues and Daniel’s there again, in his normal form. 

"No, he’s not," He grins, cupping Niall’s face in both his hands, "C’mon, let’s show him how great we are together." 

Daniel vanishes and his lips expand, puckering up and moving towards Niall’s. 

"No!" Zayn screams, but it’s too late. "No!" 

⋆

He jolts awake like an electric shock. His mind’s foggy for a moment, eyes darting open and looking around as he tries to catch his breath. 

He calms as soon as he stirs, noticing the weight on his heaving chest. Relaxation comes after that, seeing how Niall’s still fast asleep and undisturbed by Zayn’s sudden awakening. 

He swallows and lets his fingers sift through Niall’s hair, just knowing that he’s safe. 

The morning light shines through the window out onto the furthest wall in the room, illuminating any darkness that was there the night before. 

He doesn’t want to disturb Niall so he doesn’t try to move out from underneath him, regardless of how numb his feet and legs are becoming. The remote’s on the armrest next to him and Zayn takes the obligation to turn it on - turning the volume down so it’s close to mute first, of course. 

It’s the morning show, with the clock on the bottom right of the screen displaying that it’s only nine in the morning. Which is surprising, because Zayn’s feeling like he’s slept into the next day. 

Fifteen minutes pass and Zayn’s sure he’s seen the exact same ad for the exact same product about five hundred times throughout the show. He’s also sure that he’s only seen two minutes of the actual segment. But then again, he’s not really paying attention, anyway. 

He feels Niall move his head, his mouth escaping little moans as he wakes up. He goes to stretch out his arms and that’s when he realizes who he’s sleeping on. 

He darts his head around to meet Zayn’s eyes and backs off his chest apologetically. 

"Shit - crap, uh, I didn’t mean to sleep on—" 

"Don’t worry ‘bout it." Zayn tells him with a smile, unable to feel his body from the neck down. 

Niall lets out a nervous laugh and Zayn doesn’t know why. He moves his hand to play with the back of his head and that’s when he notices the tuff of hair that’s sticking up in all different directions. 

"Christ," Niall laughs, turning his head so Zayn gets a better view of his bed head, "Ya like my new hairstyle?"

"Love it," Zayn says, disguising his obvious admiration as best he can. 

Something of a low rumble can be heard over the soft mumbling from the presenters on the television. Then Niall’s widening his eyes and clutching his stomach. 

"Must be hungry," Niall says, getting up from the couch. Zayn goes to join him but he’s told to stay, "I wanna make us breakfast. You know, sort of like a thank you for last night."

Zayn gives him a look as something inside of him flutters, “You don’t have to do that.”

"Nah, I do." He says, walking over to the kitchen. "I want to." 

Zayn shrugs and lets him. He sinks back into the couch and flicks through the channels, deciding that the morning show isn’t entertaining at all when you’re half asleep and impatient. 

The sound of cupboard doors opening and closing are heard, followed by the sounds of pots and pans clashing together and the fridge door opening. Then there’s a groan and then there’s silence. 

"Ya alright, there?" Zayn calls from the couch, eyebrows creasing together slightly. 

He sits up and looks towards the kitchen with Niall in the middle of it, scratching his head. His arms drop and they slap against his thighs in defeat. 

"We need to go shoppin’, man. There’s nothin’ in the whole place!" 

Zayn doesn’t doubt that for a second. He can’t remember the last time he went out and bought food, or since he actually made a meal from the contents of his pantry. So he quirks a brow, an idea popping into his mind. 

"Did ya wanna go out for brekkie, then?"

Niall’s face lights up, “Yeah, let’s do that. Good idea.” 

He’s walking towards the front door, picking up the keys before he remembers he’s still wearing his sloppy clothes from yesterday. 

He pauses, then spins on his heel and walks towards his room instead. 

Zayn smiles and lets out a sigh, internally happy that they’re exiting the place before his mind clouds with ghastly memories from the night before. 

⋆

They go to the familiar diner down the road. Niall claims their waffles were the best things he’s eaten since he moved here; Zayn says he’s never had them. 

Five minutes and an exasperated gasp later, they’re sitting at a booth telling the waitress an order of two waffles each. 

"And a coffee." Zayn adds. 

"Make that two." Niall pitches in and the waitress nods. 

"Won’t be long." She says with a sweet smile, directed at Zayn. 

Not two seconds later, Niall scoffs. 

"What?" Zayn questions, fiddling with the napkin on the table aimlessly. 

Niall stops looking at the waitress and shakes his head, “Nothin’, nothin’.” 

Zayn looks at him sceptically but decides to let it slide. He takes a second to admire how the sun peers through the clouds so it’s hot on Niall’s cheek, though it doesn’t reach Zayn at all. It’s like a cut through the table, one side is sun and the other is not. Which is understandable, really, because Niall’s eyes are bright like the sun and his smile makes all the rain disappear. 

Zayn has to stop himself from looking so he pulls out his phone and decides to finally respond to Louis’ impatient texts. 

It’s silent for a while. Actually, it’s silent for a long while. Even when their food comes the only words Zayn says is a thank you while Niall glares at the waitress again as she tells Zayn “your welcome, sir.” And it’s strange. It’s not the kind of silence that’s comforting or normal, it’s the kind that sort of makes Zayn want to pour syrup down his top so he can create _some_ sort of conversation. 

The sounds from the customers all blend into one. Niall and Zayn’s cutlery scrape across their plates as they eat and it’s all so mutely ear-piercing. 

Zayn glances up at Niall, catching his eye. And instead of a smile or an eyebrow raise, Niall looks away almost instantly. 

"You alright?" Zayn finally asks after two more rounds of awkward eye contact. Something’s up and it’s not the frequency of beeps his phone’s making from Louis. 

Niall sighs and sets his knife and fork down. He shrugs, nodding. 

"It’s just, like," He pauses and rests his head on the back of the booth, his eyes glancing towards the sky, "I know you’re not that type of person but I just can’t help thinkin’ that you…" 

He closes his eyes and squeezes them shut, like he doesn’t know how to phrase it. 

"That I what?" Zayn prompts, as softly as he can. 

"That you’d judge me." Niall says, looking at him. "I couldn’t - I don’t want you thinkin’ any less of me after what I told you. And I can’t help feelin’ like you do." He lowers his head and shakes it, "I dunno. It’s stupid." 

"Niall," Zayn begins, as his heart and stomach and everything else fills with disbelief. "Don’t think that, yeah? You’re amazin’. I could never judge you, know that, okay? I love you." 

The last three words roll off his tongue like lyrics from a song. He freezes up and the words linger in the air, unable to be erased. 

Niall’s eyes brighten, a shy smile forming, as though he’s trying to hide it. 

"What?" 

"Shit, uh," Zayn avoids eye contact, aimlessly scratching at his head, "I mean, like, I care about you." 

Niall’s smile grows, and there’s something about it that knows what Zayn means. But he’s not running away like Zayn’s girlfriend in high school did when he told her he loved her - he’s staying. 

"Thanks." He says, moving a piece of waffle around on his plate with a fork, "I care ‘bout you too." 

It shouldn’t electrify Zayn as much as it does, but as far as Niall knows, all that happens is a small smile and a nod that finishes the conversation. Niall would probably run away if he saw the explosion of warmth that fills up Zayn’s body - or maybe that’s just the sun that’s beaming down on his side of the table now. 

Regardless, they finish their meals and coffees without a present silence and watch as the sky starts to fill with clouds. Zayn tries to stand and pay, but Niall makes a very defiant point of paying instead. 

⋆

The sound of keys hitting glass echoes through the room as Niall tosses his own into the bowl. It’s not as eerie as it was before, not as creepy or as isolated as it was twenty-four hours ago. 

The sun peers in through the glass doors that exit out onto the decking, and it’s weird because the separation from the clouds and the sun is like a barrier, moving subtly but not really getting anywhere. 

And as Zayn looks at Niall he can’t help but feel like the sky. 

"You want a beer?" Niall asks, already opening the fridge. 

Zayn quirks a smile, “Niall, it’s eleven in the morning.” 

"Yeah, and I’ve had a rough night." He retorts defensively and Zayn has to shrug in agreement. “You want one or not?” 

His mouth still lingers with the scent of coffee beans and maple syrup but the thought of a liquor based drink right now makes his taste buds crave. So, Zayn nods and takes the cold bottle from Niall’s hand, cracking it open in a synchronized pattern. 

"Funny how we don’t have food but we’re stocked with beer," Niall laughs, amusement filling his voice, "classic us." 

"Ah well," Zayn replies with a shrug, "Liam’s home soon, apparently, so he can do all the grocery shoppin’." 

Niall looks at Zayn like that’s a great idea and nods before bringing the bottle to his lips, taking a massive swig out of it. Zayn soon follows, wondering if they’ll have enough beer to last all day and night. 

"How’s that gonna work, then?" Niall asks, eyebrows pulled in confusion, "Two rooms and three people?" 

Zayn takes another drink before he replies, needing time to think up an answer. 

"Well, uh, it depends." 

"On what?" 

"On whether or not Liam wants his room back." 

Niall tilts his head back and forth slowly, eyes wondering around the room trying to understand. Then he stops as it clicks and he leans his elbows on the counter with a sort of concentration set on his face. 

"So, you’re sayin’ that if he doesn’t, then I stay there and Liam sleeps with you?" He asks. Zayn nods. "And if he does—" 

"Then you sleep with me." 

"Ah," Niall raises an eyebrow and Zayn’s unsure of whether it’s intentional or not. 

"I mean, like, you _could_ sleep on the couch." 

"Shit. Nah, nah," Niall shakes his head, repulsed of the idea on sleeping on the old, two-seater sofa. "If I’m honest, I’m sorta hoping Liam wants his room back." 

He winks and brings the bottle up to his lips again, finishing off the remains of his beer. And it may just be the fact that alcohol has a toll on him and that the sun as warmed up the place but Zayn feels like his entire body is filled with fire. 

"I’m gonna have a shower, yeah? And when I come back you better have another one of these ready for me." Niall tells him, flashing him a smile before disappearing into his room. 

"Okay." Zayn replies softly after him, realizing he’s still got most of his drink left. 

⋆

As the afternoon drags on with the sound of poorly-written sitcoms playing on T.V, ones that Niall still laughs at, Zayn realizes he’s on his forth beer for the day. He’s not sure what Niall’s on, considering that he drinks twice the pace that Zayn does. 

The room has a sense of amenity throughout it, the kind that’s settling on the skin, the kind that makes you feel cosy in a large space. The sun hits the air on an angle so you can see the thousands of dust particles flowing through the room like snowflakes. Zayn wonders whether that much dust is healthy. 

"Y’know," Niall says, quite louder than he has been, "I’ve always wondered how they get laugh tracks on shows like this. Like, do they just put a couple of people in a room and make ‘em laugh? Who knows?" 

Zayn’s eyebrows pull together without meaning to, half because he has to take a second to register what Niall’s even asking, half because he wonders what goes through Niall’s mind most the time. And as he goes to answer him, he glances at Niall only to see that his attention is already back to the show, laughing. 

"So strange." Zayn says whilst shaking his head fondly.   
   
Two seconds later and Niall’s polishing off his bottle like it was filled with water. He lets out a sigh of satisfaction and locks eyes with Zayn, raising his eyebrows. 

"I’m done, you want another?" 

Zayn waves his bottle, letting the liquid inside it hit the sides with a sloshing sound, resembling how much he has to go. 

"I’m good thanks, man." 

Niall shrugs as if to say ‘suit yourself’ and walks towards the kitchen. There’s a sound of clashing and glass hitting together, something unintentional and fragile. But when Zayn turns to look he only sees Niall there, placing his bottle down next to the collection on the bench, all of them so close together like an award shelf stacked to its extent. The sight and the smell of it comes all at once, diluting the air with bitterness and worry. 

"You alright?" Zayn asks him as Niall ducks down to the lower section of the fridge. 

"Ah! There’s only one more left! D’ya reckon I should have it?" 

Zayn bites at his bottom lip fiercely, scanning the bottles on the bench then scanning his eyes over Niall’s body, observing how light he is. 

"Are you sure it’s safe to have all that in one night?" 

"Mate," Niall says, looking at Zayn smugly, "I’m from Ireland. I’ve been drinkin’ like this since I was fourteen." 

Zayn doesn’t say anything. He lets Niall crack open his beer as he sits at the couch again  without a word and tries not to watch with concern as he sees the way Niall tilts his head back to let the liquor pour down his throat like it was Gatorade and he was an exhausted football player after a big game. 

"Y’know, Zayn," Niall says with a thoughtful yet dazed look in his eyes, "you were right when you said everyone has somethin’ they use to escape. This here," he points to the alcohol, "is helpin’ me get over the fact that he’s still down there, furious and lookin’ for me. Shit. Zayn, he’s probably lookin’ for me right now." 

There’s sudden fear in his voice - like a switch has been flicked and his emotions are controlled with it - and it’s shown in the way it quivers. He swallows harshly as he looks at Zayn like he’s expecting to be held or protected. 

"We don’t know that, yeah?" Zayn says quickly after him, desperately not wanting Niall to freak out. "We don’t know that he’s still down there." 

"But what if he is? Oh, God. If he catches me - if he catches _you_ ," He starts to breathe heavily, shaking his head, "Fuck, that can’t happen." 

"Hey," Zayn tells him sternly, hands instinctively grabbing onto Niall’s as a sign of consolidation, "don’t be scared, okay? I reckon it’s only all that beer that’s makin’ you anxious right now. Everything’s alright, he’s not gonna get you. I won’t let him."  

It all comes out in a sort of rush, like a train unable to stop on its tracks, but it works. Niall levels out his breathing and he nods once, squeezing Zayn’s hands like he depends on them. 

"Hope so," He says in almost a whisper. 

It’s quiet for a few seconds but Zayn can tell that Niall’s thinking about what to say next. The laugh track of the show plays in the background but instead of it being portrayed as humorous it’s deformed into a sort of sadistic sound, like a mocking crowd finding hilarity in the current situation. 

"We can still call the police on him, y’know." Zayn tells him calmly, knowing just how much Niall despises that option. "That way he’ll be locked up, he won’t search for you anymore." 

Niall doesn’t even consider it. He shakes his head profusely, eyes blown open with a mixture of worry and fear. 

"He’ll tell ‘em ‘bout me, though. He will. And what if they don’t lock him up? What if they just fine him or some shit? He’ll come lookin’ for sure and kill us both, no hesitation." 

His eyebrows pull together at the thought, his voice rising the more he explains. Zayn’s about to give him reasons on why they should call authority, but stops when he realizes, fearing that Niall could be right. 

"Yeah," Zayn nods, tone soft, "okay." 

The room goes cold as the music from an ad plays in the background. The clouds outside have grown, taking over the entire sky. 

Niall relaxes beside him. Although Zayn’s not touching him, he can feel the emotion of the room change from frightful to something less strained. It’s like a pulled piece of string has been loosened, the tension in it disappearing. 

"I know you’re tryna help, Zayn, but you gotta understand," Niall looks at him with kind eyes and a kind voice that makes Zayn want to smile, "I’m fuckin’ petrified." 

And he does understand that. He understands it more now that he feels the same. Completely on edge and alarmed - angry and frustrated - whenever talk of this psychotic man occurs. 

"I know," Zayn says, because it’s the truth. He opens his arms to him, letting Niall fall into them almost instantly. 

⋆

Later on that night, as the sounds of party music fill the streets and the sky turns to black, Zayn enters the living room after his shower and finds Niall asleep on the couch. He looks so tender and tiny, curled up as he breathes slow and delicate. 

Zayn turns off the television, and without question, tucks his hands underneath Niall slowly to scoop him up. He falls into him like a child, head lolling to its side so he’s leant against Zayn’s shoulder, his hands curled up in his lap and his feet dangling over Zayn’s steady arms. 

He carries him towards Niall’s room. He hears Niall’s breathing hitch but then again it could be his own. 

Zayn lays him down on Niall’s bed, making sure he’s underneath the bed sheets and that his head’s rested on the pillow. Niall stirs a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before his eyes squint slightly. 

Not wanting to wake him up, Zayn tries to leave the room without a sound. 

"Zayn?" 

Niall looks at him tiredly. He’s hard to make out, since the room is dark as night. But the moonlight peers in through the window and casts on the side of his face, illuminating his eyes and the small smile that’s just appeared. 

"Yeah?" Zayn says, turning to him. 

"Do you reckon, uh, do you reckon you could stay?" He asks, and then shrugs like it doesn’t mean something, "I get less scared when you’re here." 

"Sure, man." Zayn replies without hesitation. He adds the last word so it doesn’t mean something. 

"Thanks." 

Zayn climbs into bed, trying to ignore the heat radiating from his skin even as the cold sheets touch it. It’s not like the other times they’ve slept in the same place together. It’s different - like a change of heart or a change of mood - and it’s enough for Zayn to want to press kisses down Niall’s neck until it send him to sleep. 

He finds it amazing how this bright-eyed boy with such a carefree and exhilarating personality can still be who he is even after an experience that usually leaves people broken and unhappy. He wants to reward Niall for it, wants to put his name in lights and wants to let the whole world become aware of how exciting and captivating this boy is. 

It’s remarkable, really, how quickly Zayn’s grown to adore him. 

Niall lets out the sort of sigh you’d hear out of a person who’s given up trying, a fed-up moan that accompanies crossed eyebrows and a frustrated glare. But instead of talking, instead of plucking up a conversation, Niall only turns his back towards Zayn and stays silent. 

There’s a confused haze that dilutes the air, something that is produced by both of them and it’s unsettling in a way that needs to be comforted.  

So in a daze of reasoning and a flash of reaction, Zayn turns over, too, but not away. He wraps an arm around Niall’s middle, silently praying that his arm won’t be pushed away and that he won’t have to return to his own cold bed. 

Instead, Niall shuffles into his hold, comfortably fitting into Zayn’s body like they belong together. 

"You’re the only one I’ve told." Niall whispers, linking their fingers together. 

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just holds him tighter and hopes he won’t have another nightmare of Niall leaving.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Things are more evident in the daylight. 

The feeling of Niall’s warmth - his back pressed against his chest, the smell of his hair like cinnamon and vanilla filling his nose and his breathing filling his ears weren’t this potent the night before. 

It’s like night-time blurs out the importance of the moments that mean something, it’s a time where emotions are excused for a while, where anything can happen and it can be blamed on someone else. But at this moment, as Zayn’s eyelashes accidentally flutter against the back of Niall’s neck when he wakes, he doesn’t want to blame anyone else at all. 

The sound of a lazy laugh comes out of Niall’s mouth in one syllable, and Zayn’s not sure if he’s just woken up because of the feeling on his neck or if he’s been awake for much longer than that, and he’s also not sure of which makes him feel more buoyant; yet either way it sends a shot of electricity through his spine with the sudden sound. 

"Mornin’," He says, a small smile dancing on his lips from what Zayn can see. 

And Zayn doesn’t know whether or not he should move, if he should remove his arm from where it slings comfortably around Niall’s waist, but then he realizes that Niall’s not making any point of moving, so neither does he. 

"Hey," Zayn replies, resisting the urge to rest his lips on Niall’s jawline. "How’d you sleep?" 

The only part of Niall’s face that Zayn can see is his cheekbone and the tips of his eyelashes when they move, plus the corners of his mouth whenever he smiles. The morning sun peers through the left side of the room, the side opposite to where they’re both facing, and it’s highlighting all the edges to Niall’s face but it’s also softening in a way in which Zayn feels most mornings. 

Niall lets out a lenient sound of pleasure, “Mm, great. Didn’t have any nightmares at all.” He shifts his shoulders so they’re flat against the mattress, his chin towards the ceiling. His eyes flicker over to Zayn, “You?” 

There’s something amazing in the way that they’re faces are so close but aren’t touching. And although his arm is still draped over Niall’s middle like he’s afraid to let go, the rest of his body is colder despite the sheets covering him. 

"I had a nice sleep." 

Nice is an understatement, but so are half the things Zayn says. 

Niall’s quiet for a few moments, his eyes glancing back up to the ceiling. Zayn doesn’t bother to mask up the fact that he’s watching him, because Niall’s profile is so astonishing up close that Zayn feels the need to capture it with his eyes and keep it like a photo in his mind. 

"You workin’ today?" He asks, eyes still looking upwards. 

"Yeah," Zayn says, almost forgetting about the real world for a second, "But I’ll call in sick." 

Niall frowns and looks at him again, his eyes shining with blue from the sun, “Why?” 

Zayn shrugs, “I don’t wanna leave you here alone, I guess.” 

Niall grins and shakes his head, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. He opens them as he lets out a sigh, still smiling. 

"Oh, Malik. You do know I’m not a child, right?" 

"I’m very much aware of that." 

"So, then, I don’t think you have to skip work for me." 

Zayn shifts his position so he’s flat on his back, too, his arm slowly drifting off Niall to return to his side. Niall’s eyes are casting on his profile now, and it kind of makes Zayn warm up a little. 

“‘M not lettin’ you go out of my sight until that maniac is put away for good.” Zayn tells him, as though that wasn’t obvious. 

Niall smiles but stays silent. Zayn looks at him again, “You know that, right?” 

He nods, “Yeah, I do. But that’s a strong statement you got there.” 

"It’s true." 

"So, you mean your eyes will be on me all the time?" Niall asks, his tone turning to a playful and challenging kind. 

"That’s the idea." 

"Until he gets locked up?" 

Zayn nods.

"Wow." Niall says, blowing out air from his cheeks exasperatedly, "You’re gonna be watching me _forever_ , then." 

Zayn sighs and rolls his eyes. “He’s getting put into a prison cell, Ni. I’ll get a bloody lawyer for you if you want. That man’s getting the time he deserves.” 

He’s stern and straight-forward, the most forward he thinks he’s ever been with Niall. And Zayn trains his eyes at a spot on the ceiling, a patch that’s darker than the rest of the white paint. 

It’s not until Niall sits up when Zayn realizes he hasn’t said anything else. And before he can make sure he hasn’t upset him, Niall leans over Zayn to the other bedside table and grabs a remote that belongs to the television, then tucks himself beside Zayn, his head on his chest with his arm hugging his middle. 

"Thank you." He says, and the words vibrate through Zayn’s body. 

They watch morning cartoons as Zayn fiddles through Niall’s hair lazily. The T.V screen has sun glare pouring over it so it’s difficult to see - but Niall says it’s fine from this angle - so Zayn continues watching even though he can’t see a thing. 

Because from where he’s sitting, he’s got the best view in the house, anyway. 

⋆

It’s twelve past two in the afternoon when the first knock is heard. 

Zayn knows the time because Niall’s sat right were the clock on the wall is. His eyes are alert, looking at Zayn like a deer in headlights. 

"Don’t answer it." He says immediately, his hands clenching in his lap. 

Zayn glances over at the door. It could be anyone. 

The second knock comes a few seconds later. But it’s softer than last time, much softer than the time before that. 

Soft isn’t Daniel. Soft isn’t the man they left unconscious in an alleyway next to a garbage can. 

Zayn gets up from the couch and Niall flinches automatically with fear, holding out his hands as if to say “don’t go.” 

But the third knock comes and Zayn’s almost certain that whoever it is won’t leave until they’re answered. 

"What if it’s not him?" Zayn says to Niall, but Niall doesn’t calm. 

"What if it _is_."

Zayn chews his lip. He won’t know unless he finds out for himself. 

So, Zayn moves despite Niall’s deathly glares, and looks through the peep-hole carefully. 

One look and his fingers turn numb at the sight. He feels his heart tripling in pace in his chest and all feeling is lost from his face. 

"Zayn," Niall calls him desperately, lowering his voice to a whisper. 

He turns to Niall. “Yeah, it’s him.” 

"Shit." 

Niall looks like he’s in some sort of daze, his eyes are working but his mind is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He seems conflicted with staying in a ball in the very corner of the room or hiding somewhere. 

He glances outside towards the balcony and Zayn won’t let him go out there. He remembers Daniel searching the balcony last time. 

"Come with me." He orders Niall but he’s so filled with panic that he doesn’t want to move. 

So Zayn hoists him up from where he’s sitting, guiding him towards his bedroom. Niall seems glad for a second, that they’re both going in. But then he notices Zayn stepping out of the room, beginning to close the door. 

"Zayn, don’t lock me in here," Niall pleads, his eyebrows almost meet by how hard he’s frowning, "you can’t fight him on your own!" 

A forth knock. It’s louder. 

"He’ll be angry, Zayn."

"He knows we’re in here." Zayn says, as though that helps. Niall’s looking at him, searching, and his eyes look like he’s in pain. "Stay in my room, okay? Whatever you do, don’t make a sound." 

"Zayn," Niall whispers, the fifth knock jolting him a little, "don’t answer it. Stay in here." 

Zayn wants to be brave. He wants Niall to think that he’s safe, that there’s nothing to be scared of. So he brings Niall’s forehead to his lips and kisses it once, silently letting him know that this will all be okay. 

The sixth knock sounds like something brutal. It echoes throughout the apartment and it sends a shrill down his spine. 

"I’ve got this; he’s not scary to me." Zayn lies, swallowing. Niall looks at him with doubt. "Be as quiet as possible. I don’t want him knowin’ you’re in here." 

By now, Zayn thinks Niall’s too blurry and numb to argue anymore. So he nods, reluctantly moving inside the room, letting Zayn shut the door. 

He grabs one of the kitchen stools and locks it in place against the handle for good measure, knowing that if Niall heard anything dangerous he wouldn’t hesitate to come out. 

 _Knock… knock…knock_. 

They’re spaced out and loud, like a countdown. 

Zayn sucks in a breath and crosses the room with sweaty palms and a brave face. He pauses before he gets to the door, knowing that Daniel will be angrier than he was the first time. He takes another breath and cautiously opens the door. 

The chain that holds the door to the doorframe still remains, so the only thing Zayn can see is the man’s eye, glaring at him like Zayn’s what he eats for breakfast. 

"Get out." Zayn warns, glaring right back at him all the same. 

He remembers those eyes from his nightmare, the one’s that laughed at him, the one’s that smirked when Zayn made the mistake of saying Niall’s name. 

A second passes. Then Daniel’s pushing at the door, breaking in. His shoulder bashes against it like a rugby player, his grunts filling the room. 

Zayn doesn’t know what to do. He can see the chain slowly unbuckling with every push that’s given. 

"Do you hear me?!" Zayn shrieks, absentmindedly fisting at his hair. "I said get the fuck out of here!" 

He tries to shut the door but it’s too hard. 

Zayn pushes on his side, a sick sort of adrenaline fills his veins and suddenly he’s got all the power in the world. He presses hard, trying to close it once again. 

But adrenaline is a weak strength against those that are lethal. One more shove and the chain breaks loose and the door swings open, smacking him hard. 

"Zayn! No!" Niall cries from Zayn’s bedroom. 

Zayn watches as Daniel grins at the familiar sound. 

The expression is enough for Zayn’s hands to turn to fists, the memory of it becoming all too much. He doesn’t give any warning before one of them connects hard to Daniel’s jaw. 

But the hit is only half-effective, not like last time. It catches his jaw but his knuckles don’t hit him rough enough for him to fall.  Daniel only touches his face in shock before his eyes catch Zayn’s and they dilute in a way that a shark’s eyes do when they see food. 

Zayn’s blood runs cold as he stands there, knowing that one punch could very well kill him. He swallows down his fear and watches as rage fills Daniel’s face. 

"Fuckin’ _mutt_ ," He spits, and raises his arm—

Then falls to the ground. 

There’s a shriek from Niall, his fists bashing against the locked door just urging to get out. 

And Zayn, shocked, glances at the fallen body - unsure of how he got there without a touch. Then, he notices the pair of feet accompanied by a suitcase that’s standing behind the knocked-out villain. His eyes trail upwards, brown meeting brown as Liam stands before him. 

Zayn doesn’t say a word, he leaps up and wraps his arms around Liam’s neck, grinning yet feeling the need to cry. Liam hugs his waist, tighter than he’s ever hugged before. 

"I leave you for a month and this is what I come home to?" 

Zayn laughs ironically, “Told you it was a bad idea.” 

"Zayn!" Niall screams again, helplessly unknowing who got hit and who’s still alive. 

"You’ve got a prisoner, too?" Liam asks, concerned. 

Zayn quickly bolts back to his room, taking the chair away just as the door swings open. Niall freezes, teary-eyed and looking at Zayn like he’s been stunned. 

"I’m okay." Zayn tells him. 

Niall almost flies at him, he attacks his waist as his arms attach to it, and his head buries into Zayn’s neck; his mouth forming into a thankful smile. 

"Shit, I was so worried." 

Zayn holds him, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of his head. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

"So," Liam says, glancing between Zayn and Niall as they all look down at the man that’s planted face first into the floorboards of their apartment. "What do we do with him now?" 

After the tension of the air settles to a minimum and as the sky outside turns grey with clouds, Zayn’s been trying his best to comfort Niall while Liam’s been busy tying Daniel’s wrists and ankles together. The man lays there like a dead fish, his mouth open and salivating on the floorboards.

Liam’s question floats through the room and so does the unspoken answer - the _logical_ answer. 

Zayn and Liam share a look as Niall fiddles with his fingers and looks to the ground. 

"I know what you’re thinkin’, Li, but we can’t do that." Zayn tells him before Liam suggests the police. 

Liam frowns, he looks to Niall but Niall’s eyes still remain at his shoes. Liam turns back to Zayn, giving him a questioning look. 

Zayn only silently gestures for him to not ask - saving Niall from explaining the situation again when it was so hard the first time. 

"Well, okay," Liam says, bringing out a kitchen stool and sitting on it, "could I at least know who the hell this is, then?" 

Niall looks up at that, his face sort of sheepish. “He was my, uh—”

"Old roommate." Zayn finishes for him with a forced, close-lipped smile. "Very abusive and obsessive. Just an overall twat, really." 

He feels Niall looking at him and Zayn tries to avoid his eyes at all costs. He knows Niall could tell the real story about Daniel but Zayn fears that Liam might not accept him if he knew. 

"He’s been here before?" Liam asks, noticeably directing the question at Niall. 

"Yeah, once before." 

"And… How’d you deal with him then?" 

"Basically just knocked him out like you did and put him somewhere while he was still unconscious." Zayn answers, interrupting Niall once again. 

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to talk like Niall doesn’t have a mouth - it’s like Niall’s his new boyfriend that’s meeting his parents for the first time, with questions and answers that could make or break the blessings of their relationship. 

Liam looks at him like he’s grown a new set of ears and Zayn takes a second to observe how much Liam’s grown since the last time he saw him. It may just be the darkness caused by the lack of light outside and in the apartment but Liam looks tan as though he’s been kissed by the sun - illuminating his eyes and his smile. He’s also grown his hair, not only on his head but on his jawline, too. 

"Look at you," Zayn says, unable to hide the fond smile forming on his face. He leaves Niall’s side to run his fingers messily through Liam’s hair. "Looks like you’ve aged about three years." 

"Hey," Liam pouts, "I was only gone for five weeks, don’t tell me I’ve got grey’s already!" 

Zayn lets out a laugh, “I didn’t mean it like that, you worry wart.” 

Liam’s mouth falls open but there’s a slight smile in it. “Who’re you calling wart, huh?” 

He reaches up and pinches Zayn’s cheek with his fingers. Zayn goes to do the same but Liam knocks his hand away just in time, shooting out a laugh. 

There’s a cough that comes behind him and they both stop - still smiling from each other as they look towards Niall. 

"Hate to break up the reunion, guys, but there’s still a man on the floor." 

Zayn and Liam cross their attention to the body that Zayn’s resentfully become all too familiar with. He looks more defeated this time, though – as though if he were to wake up, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. But maybe that’s solely due to the fact that Liam’s here now. 

"If we repeat the same method that you guys did the last time, he’s just gonna keep coming back." Liam says with a sorrowful shrug - like he hates to break it to them but it’s the honest and blunt truth. 

Niall and Zayn nod, both their arms folded over their chests as they think. 

"And if we call the cops… They’ll take me too." Niall says, almost to himself. He’s resorted to keeping his eyes on the floor again, afraid of being judged. 

"Niall, we don’t know that." Zayn tells him, calmly but surely. 

Liam looks between the two of them and Zayn knows what he’s about to say before he says it. 

"If you don’t mind me asking, Niall," His tone is soft, cautious, "why would you be arrested, too?" 

"He _does_ mind you asking, actually." 

There’s a pause in the room. Niall looks at Zayn and Zayn looks away. Liam ignores Zayn completely; already aware of how he is when he gets protective and defensive. 

Niall returns his gaze back to Liam, “I was basically a slut for the guy.” 

Zayn’s eyes widen. If he had a drink he would’ve spluttered it everywhere. He’s never heard Niall talk about it like that before. 

"I wouldn’t exactly call you _that_ —"

"But it’s true."

"He _forced_ you, though, you’re not—" 

"I could’ve said no—"

"You never had the chance!" 

" _Hey_ ," Liam’s voice breaks through, soft and calm like the perfect contrast between Zayn’s sudden stressfulness. "It’s okay." 

Zayn braces himself against the kitchen bench. His jaw tightens and loosens a few times before he somewhat settles. When he looks back at Niall he’s not surprised to see him already looking back at him pryingly. 

Zayn’s body is filled with frustration. Hearing Niall blame himself for something he couldn’t control is the most infuriating thing in the world. 

"The cops wouldn’t take you." Zayn says, silently. "Not with your circumstances." 

"He’s right." Liam adds. "From what I’ve heard, you’ve done essentially no illegal acts. You could actually get a restraining order from this man." 

Niall chews his lip. He glances worriedly at the two of them, then over to the future prisoner on the floor. He takes a few seconds, his hands fiddling together like a school kid, and then nods. 

"Worth a shot." He says, still unenthused about the idea but at this point Zayn thinks he doesn’t have any other choice. 

"You’ll be alright, yeah?" Liam tells him with reassurance, reaching over to the wired landline phone on the wall. 

He types in the number and holds it to his ear, talking into it almost instantly. Zayn looks at Niall, who’s turned a shade of white almost; his nerves and uneasiness soak the room so much that Zayn starts to feel it, too. 

"Hey," He says, letting his hand sit comfortingly on Niall’s upper arm, "you’ll be completely safe now. There’s nothin’ to worry about." 

Niall locks his eyes with Zayn’s, the fear and abandonment fade and it’s replaced with something else that Zayn can’t pinpoint - something like relief. 

"I thought he hit you, you know." He says, soft, his eyes gazing downwards. "I thought he hurt you." 

Zayn’s hand still remains on his arm and he squeezes it gently. “Promised you I wouldn’t let that happen, didn’t I?” 

Niall smiles for the first time in what seems like forever. And it’s like the clouds have disappeared and the sun shines in brighter than it was before. 

He nods, and hesitates for a second before leaning into Zayn’s chest and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

Zayn smiles, resting his chin on Niall’s shoulder. 

Liam hangs up the phone and his voice calls through the room, “They’re on their way.” 

Niall’s body tenses in Zayn’s arms but it doesn’t last long. Zayn creates patterns in the back of Niall’s shirt with his fingers. 

"Did they say anything else?" Zayn asks Liam, keeping his voice soft. 

"Yeah. They told me to try and keep him here until they come." The corners of his mouth tilt up, smug. "Though, that shouldn’t be a problem." 

Zayn glances over to the man with bounded ankles and wrists, unable to move as though he were bolted to the floor. Zayn smiles.  

⋆

Two minutes after they turn on the television, Daniel wakes. 

Liam’s purposely sat closest to him, with Niall furthest away. Daniel grunts, trying his hardest to squirm out of the rope’s hold. 

Liam mutes the television and they all watch together as Daniel struggles. He looks like a fish out of water, unable to function and only able to flap around helplessly. 

He lets out another groan, this time getting louder with frustration as it drags on, filling the room. 

Niall takes Zayn’s hand. 

"Where the _fuckin’_ hell am I?!" Daniel’s voice pierces through their ears, almost like a scream. 

"Oh, shut up, would you?" Liam says, looking at him from the couch. 

Daniel freezes for a second, and then moves his face from where it’s planted on the floorboards. After struggling some more, he eventually turns his body on his side, looking up to face Liam and the boys. 

He frowns as his eyes evaluate Liam and suddenly, like a switch, he turns furious. “And who the hell are _you_?!” 

Liam acts like he’s taken aback, placing a delicate hand on his chest as his eyes and mouth gape open. “Well. I think you should learn some manners, Daniel.” 

Zayn chokes out a laugh, looking at Liam with surprised eyes, unable to fathom how a month away with his family can make him come back acting like _this_. 

Although, Zayn’s seen this Liam once before in high school - when Zayn would get bullied and Liam would either result to violence or humiliate them with words. _Only because they deserved it_ , Liam would say.  

"You’re goin’ to prison, dickhead." Niall says, making Zayn and Liam turn towards him in astonishment. "They’re gonna finally lock you up!" 

Zayn spots the happiness that fills Niall’s eyes. He squeezes his hand. 

"They’re gonna get you, too, idiot!" Daniel yells back, his voice raspy - becoming weaker and weaker. "You’re all fuckin’ idiots!" 

Liam raises his eyebrows, “Says the one stuck to the floor.” 

"Fuck you!" 

At that, the policemen arrive at the door. 

⋆

The air outside is icy against Zayn’s cheeks, his sleeves are brought down to the tips of his fingers; enough so he’s able to bring his lighter to his cigarette. He flips his cotton-made hood up over his head in hopes that it warms him up a little more. 

He peers over the balcony as he inhales the tobacco, letting his ears fill with the sounds of the town - letting his mind fill with the thoughts of the day. 

Daniel was dragged by the two policemen after they were deeply informed of the situation. He didn’t leave kicking and screaming like Zayn thought he would’ve - but instead glared at the three of them until he was forced around the corner. It made Zayn’s whole body turn cold, but Niall’s warmth beside him made that feeling quickly disperse - turning him from anxious to ease in less than a second. 

Zayn left the room quickly after that without any announcement of where he was headed. Though, neither of them questioned it - Liam didn’t even frown at him for having a smoke, probably thinking that Zayn deserved one - and they stayed inside as he left. 

The cigarette becomes small between his fingers, his chest filling with every inhale, his mind becoming more relaxed with every exhale. 

He puts out the last of it in the ashtray and is in the midst of taking out his second one for the night when the sound of the sliding door is opened. Zayn lights up as Niall appears at his side and the cigarette starts to burn between his teeth. 

"Liam’s decided to have his room back." Niall says, nonchalantly. Still, his eyes express something playful. 

Zayn’s chest fills with warmth - and he’s sure it’s not the smoke. 

"Is that so?" He says, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile, "Hope you don’t mind sleepin’ with me, then." 

"Oh, I do." Niall jokes, attempting to hide the smile in his voice. "I was actually thinkin’ of takin’ the couch. You’re a _terrible_ snorer." 

Zayn lets out a shocked laugh, “Am not!” 

Niall laughs, too, and he throws his head back like a little kid, the sound overriding the whole town. It’s like the crinkles by his eyes have regained their spot and Niall’s mouth has finally returned to its ever-smiling ways and Zayn finds himself so mesmerized that he forgets about the burning tobacco in his fingers. 

"Gotta thank Liam, too, actually." Niall thinks aloud. "Gotta get him a present or somethin’…" 

He trails off and leans his chin on his hand as he braces himself against the ledge with his elbow. He dances his fingers against the corners of his mouth as he thinks and Zayn’s officially certain that he could watch this boy for days. 

"We could throw a party." Zayn suggests. Niall looks at him. 

"What, like a thank you party?" 

"I was more thinkin’ of a welcome home party?" 

Niall’s whole body brightens, shining brighter than any streetlight in town, “A party! Yeah, that’d be sick I reckon! Have Harry and Lou around as well, bit of booze, some tunes,” 

"You can thank Liam on the night, too, if you wanted."

Niall nods, already sold. “Yep, yeah, done. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow, you think?” 

"Yeah, I can’t think much right now." Zayn admits, pressing the last of his dart out, "It’s been a heck of a day." 

Niall scoffs, “Got that right.” 

⋆

That night, after Liam silently told Zayn that he should thank him (not for Daniel, that is), Zayn and Niall lie in Zayn’s bed, both facing the ceiling with the lights turned off. 

He knows Niall’s not asleep yet, he knows because he’s heard the way his breathing evens out when he is, felt the way his body moves softly with every breath that he takes. And he’s almost certain that Niall doesn’t have his eyes closed, either, even after they’ve both said good night. 

He rolls over onto his side, his back facing Zayn and it’s the loudest thing Zayn can hear. It’s almost like a statement, or a question, whichever one makes sense - and he feels his fingertips twitch like they’re supposed to be somewhere other than by his side. 

"Zayn?" 

His voice carries through the room and Zayn sort of wishes his stomach wouldn’t flutter at the sound. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can you…" Niall trails off; he adjusts his position then clears his throat, "Nah, never mind." 

Zayn frowns as he tilts his head so it faces Niall, “What were you gonna say?” 

"Just, like," Niall talks hesitantly, as though he’s afraid to admit something, "last night I slept so well. And I was just thinkin’ that maybe it was ‘cause you were… there?" 

He phrases it like a question, unsure. Zayn’s body runs with cordiality, turning his body like a demand so he fits in with Niall’s. His arm wraps around his waist and Niall presses up against him instantly. 

"Yeah, like that." Niall says, pleasantness in his voice. 

Zayn remains quiet, and only falls asleep when his heart settles down, falling in unison with Niall’s.  

 


	10. Chapter 10

They’ve decided to meet up at a local pub that’s much nicer than the one they’ve gone to before. It’s at least cleaner and classier - with golden-coloured plush couches sat on either side of the large room and booths lined up that look comfier than the one’s at the diner - and as Zayn enters he doesn’t receive a deathly smell of body odour and booze. 

There’s light music playing softly in the background, and muffled conversations from each group of people throughout the pub. They sort of linger near the entrance for a few seconds each looking around to get familiar with their surroundings.

"Hey, this is a nice pick, Niall." Louis tells him, lightly messing up Niall’s hair. 

Niall beams at the praise. He looks to Zayn - almost in need of confirmation - and Zayn raises both his thumbs in response. 

“Pretty full.” Harry glances around, referring to the amount of people.

“Oh, that’s not a problem, Haz!” Niall pats his back firmly. He hums as though he’s thinking as he searches for a spot to sit. And then as though he were parting the Red Sea, a booth clears out and the spot is free. He points to it, “There we go!”

Zayn shakes his head softly in wonderment. It’s like Niall’s a spark of light and the world revolves around it.

"Can’t believe you’re home already, Liam," Harry says as they all walk towards the selected booth. Nobody else seems to be amazed at Niall’s casual power over humanity. Harry picks up one of the nuts in the bowl already placed on the table and continues to talk to Liam. "Could’ve sworn you left, like, a week ago." 

Zayn silently disagrees, feels like it's been a year. 

" _Harry_ ," Louis scolds quietly, prolonging his name, "that’s a horrible thing to say." 

Harry looks stunned for a second, and then by the time everyone sits, he realizes how his words came out. 

"Shit, man, I didn’t mean it like that—" 

Liam laughs, “It’s fine, mate.” 

He’s sat in the middle of the four of them, Louis and Zayn on either side. Harry’s next to Louis and Niall’s next to Zayn. 

The room’s filled with clusters of conversations and light music that somehow manages to become quieter the longer they’re here, complete with the occasional clatter of glasses as the bartenders and waitresses handle the drinks. It’s completely dark outside, the stars already starting to show. 

Zayn shrugs off his jacket, feeling the warmth from the inside as it contrasts from the freezing air outside. And almost like an instinct, or an unknowing habit, the rest of the boys follow suit, taking off their outer layers of clothing. 

"What’s everyone wantin’, then?" Niall asks, standing up from the booth, clapping his hands together, keen. 

There’s excitement in his eyes and Zayn could live in them forever. 

"I think beers, yeah?" Louis asks on behalf of everyone. 

Harry nods straight away, Liam and Zayn follow after. 

"That was easy." Niall says, almost to himself. "Rightio, five pints comin’ up." 

He shoots off like an arrow, energy bursting through his veins. Zayn’s still not really sure why or how he’s so enthusiastic and ecstatic most the time - but it’s the most endearing and compelling state of mind Zayn’s ever seen. 

"So, uh," Louis says, almost like a whisper. He leans in; as though he’s afraid someone else will hear. "How’s he doing?" 

Liam looks to Zayn and Zayn’s eyes automatically drift off to Niall. 

Louis and Harry had been informed by the situation soon after it happened, unknowingly to Niall, and haven’t seen him since tonight. Zayn knew that this topic would come up and the truth is, he’s not quite sure what the answer is. 

"He’s fine, we think." Liam says, still looking at Zayn. "I think after he got taken away he settled down lots." 

Zayn nods, “Yeah, Niall’s okay.” 

Louis and Harry move in synchronization, tilting their heads up and down slightly in understanding, their eyes filled with unneeded sympathy. 

"Do you think he needs a, uh, psychologist?" Harry asks, Louis frowns. 

"Crap, Harry, you’re really on fire tonight, aren’t you?" 

Harry looks at him in confusion, “What? What’d I do?” 

"Yeah, buddy!" Niall calls as he dances over, a tray full of drinks in his hands. "Drink up, lads!" 

He’s got a smile as wide as the sun on his face as he raises his glass. It’s like all the positivity in the room has soaked up into him like a sponge, releasing it with every word he says. Zayn finds himself smiling only by looking up at him, almost proudly. 

The boys pick up the glasses almost immediately. Zayn feels a pull at his stomach when he thinks that they’re forcing their congeniality to make Niall feel as comfortable and at ease at possible. But Niall doesn’t need that. Niall’s okay.

"To Liam!" Louis announces, raising his own glass. 

Zayn picks up the only one left on the tray and joins in, the whole table echoing with, “To Liam!” and the night of drinking begins. 

⋆

Glasses start to fill the table as everyone begins to get progressively louder. Niall’s off dancing with Harry and Louis somewhere amongst the crowd. The music gets louder, too, something less light and more beat-filled as though they were all at a club. Niall laughs and everything around Zayn goes soft until it ends.

Zayn sometimes catches Niall’s eye and his stomach always swoops at the sight of him every time without fail. He’s dancing with a glass in his hand, spilling beer everywhere as he sings loudly along to the song playing throughout the pub. Harry and Louis are laughing, swinging their arms around each other with such delight it’s like the worries of the past few nights have washed away and now it’s an incoming new wave - filled with nothing but buoyancy and drunken love songs to create a sense of safety and endless happiness that Zayn’s been exposed to ever since that Irish voice first flowed through Zayn’s ears. 

Liam’s next to Zayn on the booth. They’ve both shared the same amount of drinks as everyone else, but unlike the three on the dance floor, they don’t have the tendency to make a fool of themselves.

Liam’s laughing at Niall, mostly, eyes crinkling as his laugh echoes through the room. Zayn misses this closeness - but doesn’t miss the restriction of Liam as his only company. Because the suppression of his memories as a child come back when it’s only the two of them, as though they were back in school fearing for their lives. 

But then, as his mind topples swiftly over the barrier of a normal to an altered state of consciousness, he looks at Liam looking at Niall and suddenly it’s not so bad. 

"Cool, isn’t he?" 

Liam’s eyes train to Zayn’s, his smile’s still there but his eyes soften a little. 

" _Cool_?" He asks, the tone is his voice almost offended. He puts an arm around Zayn, his hand sprawling across his shoulder. "Mate, I think he deserves a better adjective than _that_. Look at him!" 

Zayn bites his lip briefly. Liam’s right. 

He looks over at Niall, who’s doubling over in laughter at something Louis said, probably. He glances up and his eyes are shining brighter than the lights that fill the place. 

"Fun," Zayn says, nodding his head. Liam gives a sound of approval, and then waves his hand to encourage him to keep going. Zayn takes a gulp of his beer. "Energetic?" 

He doesn’t get a response so he looks at Liam, unsure. Liam stares back, almost in disappointment, and rattles Zayn’s shoulders with his hands. 

"Those words are something that I’d use to describe Harry or Louis, for God’s sake." Liam says, his smile still there. "Dig deep, Malik. C’mon." 

Zayn’s eyes lock on Niall. His hands are thrown up in the air now, dancing around Louis and Harry as he shakes his hips. He’s got that ever present smile on his face and his cheeks are slightly flushed from the alcohol and he looks like the most precious thing in the world. 

"Makes me happy." Zayn finds himself saying. His mouth is moving but he’s not looking for approval now. Niall stops moving and he’s laughing so much Zayn thinks he can fly. He’s smiling, whispering, "Might love him." 

Liam splutters beside him, sprays of beer cover the table and Zayn looks over at him in concern. 

He places a hand on his back, “You alright, man?” 

Liam wipes his mouth and looks at Zayn incredulously, lowering his voice. “Did you say love?” 

Zayn lets out a short laugh. “No,” He says, scrunching up his face. 

But then the boys are returning back to their seats. Niall collapses next to Zayn, slightly out of breath and all Zayn can hear is his heart beating out of his chest. 

"Nice dancing." Zayn praises, smiling affectionately dumb at Niall. 

He laughs, “Shoulda joined me out there.” 

"Maybe next time, yeah?" Zayn says. Liam’s eyes widen for a second, knowing that he’s never seen Zayn dance before in his life. Though, with Niall, Zayn feels like he can do anything. 

"Need a few more drinks, eh?" Niall suggests. Louis cheers. "Next round is vodka!" 

⋆

Niall leans on Zayn’s shoulder and bats his eyelids. He smells of alcohol and cologne and it fills Zayn’s nose with a sense of familiarity that makes him buzz a little. 

"Zaaayn," He coos, his arm reaching over Zayn’s middle to hug him, "you’re _so_ …"

He trails off, distracted. He’s staring at Zayn’s face like it’s something extraordinary and Zayn wants to curse at himself when he feels his cheeks blush underneath Niall’s gaze. 

The other boys are in the midst of catching up with Liam, Harry and Louis telling him about what they got up to when he was away. Zayn catches Liam’s eye and Liam tries his hardest not to laugh at the situation that he sees on Zayn’s shoulder. 

Zayn shoots out a prayer that Louis doesn’t catch on, too. 

" _Fuck_ ," Niall whispers from beside him. Zayn looks to him and his eyes are already still plastered on Zayn’s face. 

Zayn looks around the room, and then settles back to the unmoving Niall. He’s not really sure how many drinks are in Niall’s system, but Zayn’s guessing it’s a lot. 

"Niall?" He asks, a little concerned. "You okay?" 

Niall’s lips stretch into a grin. He nods straight away. 

"Ya just… Ya look so nice right now." He coos, his accent sounding thicker than ever. 

Zayn looks cautiously around the table, wondering if they heard him, too. But their attention is still divided and Niall’s eyes are still burning into Zayn’s skin like a permanent tattoo. 

He turns to face him, “Niall—”

But his words are closed off by warmth against his own lips. Zayn’s own mind is fuzzy, completely disorientated now that his mouth has been touched. 

His eyes remain open as Niall leans back again, smiling like he’s just achieved the most amazing task. He’s giggly and it surrounds the whole room. Until, that is, when Zayn returns from shock and realizes the slight laughter isn’t only coming from Niall. 

"Never seen him so shocked!" Liam exclaims, loudly. 

"It’s like when you kissed me, Lou!" Harry points out, almost exploding with fondness. 

"Nah, at least you kissed me back!" Louis cackles, and the rest follow. 

"Yeah, come off it, will ya?" Zayn says, rolling his eyes. He tries to hide the endless pit of strange excitement boiling inside him. When he turns back to Niall he locks eyes with him straight away. Zayn swallows, says, "Bit drunk, huh?" 

Niall shakes his head, “Fuck nah.” 

Zayn’s eyebrows pull together, “Then why did—”

"Christ, Malik, I woulda done that sober!" 

There’s a thump in his chest and Zayn’s certain it’s his heart growing double in size. 

Then Niall’s leaning in closer, his lips close to his ear.

"Sorta wanna do it again." 

Zayn’s whole body trembles. 

He’s completely certain that these drinks aren’t spiked and he’s not just imagining things now, he’s also completely certain that he’s about to go insane with Niall that close to him. 

He kisses Niall without an inch of regret, delicate and soft, breathing in the scent that is familiar around the apartment. It’s cute and innocent, everything Zayn hasn’t felt in a while.

He finds Niall’s hand and holds it, squeezing slightly when Niall leans forwards into him. 

The boys cheer and start chanting but Zayn can’t listen to that right now, his mind’s too busy swimming with so much brightness and serenity; it’s impossible to focus on something other than Niall’s lips. 

"God," Niall says as he cuddles into Zayn’s side. He shakes his head in disbelief, "This is better than what I’ve pictured." 

Zayn warms up instantly with the thought of Niall thinking about it. His mind – not feeling so cute and innocent anymore – crosses to that day after work, Niall coming out of his room when he thought nobody was home, trousers sitting below his hips, lips red and shiny like they are now—

"Right, well," Louis says, his hands clasping together, "I think that calls for another round! Right, lads?" 

Liam and Harry cheer, throwing their arms up in the air. Niall squeezes Zayn’s hand and it’s like a telepathically transferred conversation is spoken between the two. 

"Actually, we’re gonna head off. That alright?" Zayn asks, even though the answer isn’t going to dictate their movement at all.

Louis’ eyebrows rise perceptively as Harry starts making kissing noises. Liam’s mouth has fallen open and Zayn’s not really sure if he’s aware of that. 

"By all means, you fucking lovebirds." Louis says, grinning spastically. “‘Bout time you realized how fucking horny you are for each other. Fuck your heart’s out!" 

Zayn takes Niall away at that, knowing the longer they stay there, the worse it’s going to get. 

They move through the growing crowd on the small dance floor, squeezing passed the moving bodies. Zayn doesn’t realise how fast and eager he is until he’s at the door already, Niall trailing behind him. His mind races with scenarios and situations in which he wants to do with Niall. He just wants to _be_ with Niall in every way.

And he hates that Louis’ right, again, when he says it’s about time. Zayn silently wishes that this could’ve happened sooner, that Zayn could’ve been able to hold Niall’s hand as soon as he saw him, pecked kisses on his face as he falls asleep and shared showers together instead of waiting for one another.

They reach outside, the icy cold air touches their skin as soon as they step out onto the concrete, their bodies yearning for warmth.

Niall laughs softly beside him; intoxication is still visible in his eyes. “Louis swears more than me, I reckon.” 

"Oh, yeah, he gets like that when he’s had a few." Zayn says. And it’s not until he’s spoken when he realises how nervous he is and how noticeable that is in his voice and in his stomach. He sort of enjoys the feeling of it.  

They call a taxi and they wait for it out on the sidewalk. It’s cold and it’s dark but their hands remain held and it’s the warmest Zayn’s ever been on a Saturday night. 

⋆

They bustle in through the door with their lips firmly attached, their belts falling off their holders as they stumble into the apartment, hands everywhere and Zayn’s mind filling with nothing but _NiallNiallNiall_. 

Somewhere between the sidewalk and the taxi ride, they haven’t been able to pull apart from each other as the seclusion and intimacy of being the only two overcome everything else and it’s like their admiration and _need_ for each other has surfaced in the space of an hour, unable to be suppressed any longer.

Niall’s hands tug on the waistband of Zayn’s jeans roughly, trying desperately to unbuckle Zayn’s leather belt.

Zayn leans his back against the kitchen counter as Niall kisses down his jaw and making Zayn feel like he’s on ecstasy. He knocks Niall’s hands away and takes control, slipping the belt out from its holders and throws it somewhere.

Then Niall drops to his knees and suddenly it’s like the world stops spinning for a moment. 

"You better remember this in the mornin’," Zayn says, his breath short as Niall unzips his pants. 

"I will," Niall promises, looking up at him, and this view is so beautiful to Zayn that it makes his fingers dig into the island bench top. “‘M not even that drunk." 

Niall insists, and proceeds to let Zayn’s pants fall to the ground. 

The initial warmth of his hand is enough for Zayn to squeeze his eyes shut and tilt his head back. Niall curses something but to be fair Zayn’s too far gone now that he can’t comprehend anything. He thinks about all of those times he’s pictured Niall going down on him - now realizing that his imagination is limitless yet nothing compares to the realistic situation occurring right now.

Niall’s mouth is wet and eager and so _there_ that it’s hard for Zayn to not buckle and collapse. Niall moves his mouth around him, his tongue lapping at the head with his hand still on the base. 

He glances down and almost shoots his load then and there. Niall’s lips are big around his cock, his blue eyes flickering up to watch Zayn, the cream carpet below him making Niall stand out more than ever. Zayn groans un-expectantly, a deep sound. It surrounds the room.

They lock eyes and Niall’s cheeks rise with a satisfying smile. Then he moans and it vibrates through Zayn like a shock filled with pleasure - forcing out a husky moan of his own. 

The hand around him goes faster and so does the mouth, moving in rhythm as Zayn feels himself reaching, his fingers pulling at Niall’s hair slightly. 

“‘M almost there,” Zayn chokes out, eyes towards the roof as his knuckles turn white from clenching onto the counter. 

Niall licks a strip up his side and his mouth remains enclosed over the tip, swallowing the liquid that eventually ejaculates with a sound so loud and broken it makes Niall come, too. 

Zayn braces himself against the counter and watches as Niall wipes his mouth with fulfilment, licking off anything he’s missed. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are red and his eyes are so blue with lust that they could turn Zayn on again with just one glance. 

Niall stands up and Zayn gently brings his head close to his own, and kisses him.

⋆

They end up on the couch kissing lazily in nothing but their underwear. It’s something like one-thirty in the morning, the sky outside rings with darkness and the stars are viewed from the glass door leading out to the balcony. 

Niall’s lying on Zayn’s chest, their legs entwined as Niall pecks softly at Zayn’s face. He kisses his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and his eyelids - warmth surrounding Zayn wherever he touches. 

Eventually Niall convinces himself that he’s touched every part of Zayn’s face that’s possible. He leans closer to Zayn’s cheek as though he were to kiss it, but instead touches it lightly with his eyelashes, batting them so it tickles.

Zayn chuckles softly, his body moving with it. Niall grins and settles his head down on Zayn’s chest. Zayn threads his fingers through Niall’s hair and starts to play with it affectionately. His eyes glance up towards the ceiling and he wonders how they got here.

He wraps his arms around Niall and holds him closer, vowing to himself to never let him go.

Soon, their breathing moves as one as their high’s turn to peaceful low’s and their eyes shut - Zayn’s eyelids still burn with love - and they sleep peacefully until the sun begins to show. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm SO sorry for the delay guys!! i know, i know, it's been like a month :/ i'll make it up to you i promise! xx

Zayn’s fingertips feel like they’re melting when he wakes. He’s got a lovely weight on his body and a slight lightness shining in through his eyelids but his fingertips feel like they’re melting.

He hears whispers crowding around him and when he moves his fingers he can feel something wet surround his hand. He frowns delicately and blinks his eyes open, surprisingly meeting three other pairs staring down at him.

Louis’ the first to speak, sighing with mock frustration, “This never works!” He exclaims, taking the small bowl of warm water away from Zayn’s saturated hand, “You’re supposed to be peeing all over Niall right now!”

Zayn feels movement on his chest and notices Niall - sleepy and confused - blinking and looking around as though he has no idea where he is. It sends Zayn into a daze of gleefulness automatically, his mind re-filling with memories from the night before, his body still buzzing from the new sensations Niall gave him.

Then Liam laughs suddenly and all eyes turn to him.

"I’m sorry," He says, laughing into his hand, "but they just look so cute right now and I’m just picturing what’d be like if they were both covered in piss."

Harry snorts quietly into Louis’ shoulder, Louis coughs out a laugh with a sufficient nod. Zayn rolls his eyes because, really, only he would wake up after a night of wonderment to be met with three idiots plotting to ruin his morning.

Niall, though, looks at Liam like he’s grown another ear. He frowns, his eyes still half-shut from the sleepiness and his voice comes out raspy and small as he says, “What is wrong with you?”

Liam laughs again, this time pointing to Louis, “Hey, it was all his idea.”

"I don’t doubt that." Zayn says.

Niall looks at him for the first time that day and his entire face softens in a second. He smiles woefully, “Hey.”

Zayn’s mind is no longer filled with haziness anymore and it’s like he’s seeing Niall again in a whole new light. The drunken feeling still lingers inside his body but he begins to wonder if that’s got nothing to do with last night’s alcohol.

"Hey," He replies, wondering if he were to feed his fingers through Niall’s hair right now,  that’d be okay.

He notices skin on skin, how the morning light shines in and beams down on their bodies. Tan and light blend into each other like paint, fitting together and complimenting one another beautifully.

Niall’s face is close as Zayn lifts up his head and he can see the kaleidoscope of colours that swim in Niall’s eyes. His lips are slightly cracked and his mouth is parted open yet his hair is still intact from the night before.

At this moment, Zayn feels like he could hold Niall’s face with his hands, press a kiss to his lips, and then tell him he loves him.

But, like a break in a flowing wave, Liam speaks and Zayn realises that ‘I love you’ comes another day.

"God dammit," Liam says, slapping the couch with his hand, "I’ve just realised I’m surrounded by couples."

"Get over it, Payno," Louis tells him light-heartedly, and for some reason the word ‘couple’ makes Zayn blush. "Anyway, lads, it’s time to get up. We’re goin’ out."

Niall almost splutters out something, but instead Zayn looks at Louis and frowns, “What’s the time, man?”

"Uhh…"

Harry glances at his watch, “‘Bout ten.”

Zayn lets out a groan and lets his head fall back onto the couches arm rest. He shuts his eyes and wishes for a moment that he could have three more hours with Niall and nobody else. But because it’s Louis, Harry and Liam, and because they’ve all been stuck together like glue since day one, it’s almost expected that they are to be with each other every other day of the year.

And if Niall’s willing to deal with that, then that’s all that matters.

"C’mon, Zayn," Harry says, stringing out Zayn’s name like a song. Hands are felt on his head, moving it slowly, "Wakey-wakey."

He lets out another groan because it might be all he can manage right now and the hands disappear.

"Maybe give us a couple of mins, yeah?" Niall asks them.

Zayn could definitely hold Niall’s face with his hands, press a kiss to his lips, and then tell him he loves him.

"Sure, Ni." Liam says, unexpectedly fast.

Louis laughs shortly, “Why? You got some unfinished business, have you?”

If Zayn wasn’t half-asleep and filled with love, he’d smack Louis as hard as he could.

Eventually, three pairs of feet find their way out of the apartment, calling out something to do with the diner at ten-thirty, and then the door shuts and the company of one other person surrounds the whole room.

He feels eyes on him, despite his own being closed.

The sun’s brighter than most mornings today, as it’s the only thing Zayn can see through the blackness of his eyelids. His whole body radiates heat from where Niall’s touched him throughout the night.

It still sends a thrill of excitement down him when he feels familiar fingertips touch his chest.

They touch Zayn’s cheek and he opens his eyes. He’s met with Niall looking at him, blue on brown. Zayn catches Niall’s hand with his own.

"You look so good right now." Niall says, his thumb brushing against Zayn’s cheek delicately.

Zayn moves his hands so they rest on Niall’s hips as Niall sits above Zayn’s. “You said that last night.”

"I know," Niall replies sheepishly, "Just wanna make sure you knew it."

Zayn smiles and shakes his head ever-so-slightly. “C’mere,” He says, and brings Niall closer.

⋆

They end up missing breakfast and going straight to lunch instead.

The air is aromatic when they exit the apartment block, something like a fast food place or restaurant, and it makes Niall cling onto Zayn’s arm in excitement as soon as it reaches his nose.

"If I had known how hungry you were I wouldn’t have waited around."

Niall links his fingers in with Zayn’s, swinging them slightly between their bodies as they walk side by side.

"Didn’t think I was!" And like a cue in a movie, Niall’s stomach starts to grumble. "Shit, don’t even think I’ve eaten since lunch yesterday."

Zayn catches the smell in the air, distinctly of waffles and maple syrup and melted butter and it makes Zayn’s stomach grumble unhappily.

He clutches at it, unintentionally quickening his pace. “I’m starving,” He says, almost more as an observation than a statement.

Niall quickens his pace, too, so he’s not trailing behind like a kite in the wind, and soon enough they’re both running across the road to the diner with held hands and eager mouths.

They enter the lit room after two streets of running with harsh breaths and feeble grins. Their hands break contact as they double over; their hands on their knees as they breathe in and out like asthma patients on a bad day.

"Shit," Niall says, standing back up to stretch his back, his voice filled with air, "I need to work out more."

Zayn agrees with a nod, thinking that he should cut back on the tobacco.

"The fuck happened here?"

Zayn’s eyes catch Louis’ as he stands there with Liam and Harry, pointing at the couple with an interesting gaze.

"Looks like you’ve just run a marathon mate."

"Or just been chased." Liam adds. His eyes look at them questionably, “You haven’t been chased, have you?”

Then Harry says, “Or, you know, they’ve just had sex.” And Louis looks at him.

"We ran here." Zayn says, standing up normally. He swallows and it makes the lack of moisture on his tongue all the more noticeable.

"Wow," Louis says, eyebrows rising as he prolongs the word, his mouth shaping with it. He turns to Liam and holds his shoulder with one hand, "Liam, take him to the gym, will you?"

"Just take us to the fuckin’ food." Niall says. Zayn smiles and reaches for his hand.

⋆

Throughout lunch Niall and Zayn are guilty for isolating everyone else. Guilty as in they’re not innocent - not as in their stomachs twist in uncomfortable ways - the least thing their stomachs feel is guilt.

Niall’s arm is slung over Zayn’s shoulders, his fingers ritualistically running up and down his bare arm as his skin creates goose bumps beneath them. Zayn’s pressed against Niall’s chest, his body sinking down the booth in order to fit perfectly into the grooves of Niall’s side.

They’ve finished what was on their plates, the food vanishing faster than the time it took to get there, and now they lay back cuddled with a satisfying glow throughout their entire being.

Zayn fixes his eyes on Niall’s face. He wonders if it was even possible for him to glow anymore than he was already. He also wonders why Niall never made the first move at all, why he never just told him how he felt from the get-go. Zayn wonders a lot of things, but the last thought makes his forehead crinkle in curiosity.

Niall turns to the slight movement, as though, at the corner of his eye, he was able to notice something so minuscule about the displacement on Zayn’s face.

He remembers when Niall first looked at the apartment. How Zayn felt hot under Niall’s gaze, how Niall was unbelievably unsubtle, how he claimed, _I knew I wanted this place as soon as I saw who owned it!_

And now he’s looking at Zayn with questioning eyes, waiting for a response. Nothing escapes his lips but an unvoiced question that floats through the air like a balloon. But before it can lose its grip and fly away, Zayn answers.

"Can I ask somethin’?"

Niall’s gaze switches from Zayn’s left to right eye before nodding twice. “‘Course.”

"Why didn’t you attempt anything before? You know - with me?"

Niall pauses for a few seconds. Then his mouth breaks into a smile as his eyes look towards the ceiling.

"Oh, god, Malik." He says, shaking his head, "You wouldn’t believe how many times I tried."

Zayn readjusts his position at that, his body shifting upright so he can look at Niall front on.

"You mean, you—"

"I thought I was as transparent as they come!" Niall laughs a little, "Obviously not."

Zayn finds himself smiling, (he’s become accustomed to the fact that it’s a given his mouth will turn upwards as long as Niall’s doing the same), and he shrugs in response. Because like a flash of lightning in a darkened sky, Zayn realises his obliviousness and doubt had nothing to do with Niall at all – that he was only merely incapable of noticing somebody’s affection, that the only thing he could feel was his unworthiness of such tenderness and care - especially from someone that turns things from ruins to gold with just one touch.

So Zayn presses a kiss to Niall’s cheek with admiration and snuggles back into his side, soaking up the warmth and the sweet smell that makes him feel at ease.

Until, that is, when Niall jumps.

All the boys look out the window towards the car park that Zayn hadn’t even noticed was there until now.

There’s only one car parked where the view is clear - a police car. Zayn spots the officer first, and it’s not a second later when he recognises the man standing next to him.

Daniel, looking gloomier than ever, is held in the presence of a police officer, and is walking straight towards this very diner.

Louis’ the first to speak.

"Fuckin’ hell." He says, dropping his fork onto the plate, the sound of ceramic hitting metal adds emphasis to his annoyed tone. "It just _had_ to be this joint, didn’t it? Couldn’t have gone to the one next door, could he?" He shakes his head, "Unbelievable."

The other boys stay silent. Niall’s motionless - a flashback of him crouched against the wall passes Zayn’s mind and he acts instantly.

"Did you wanna leave, babe?"

Niall breaks his gaze from the window and he locks eyes with Zayn’s. “Hm?”

Zayn takes his hand. “I said, did you wanna go somewhere else?”

Niall shuts his eyes for a few seconds, “No, no, I reckon I’ll be—”

The door opens and Niall freezes again.

"Make it quick." The officer demands, pushing Daniel towards the bathroom.

"Am I at least able to get some food? I’m starvin’ here."

His voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard for Zayn. He can’t imagine what Niall’s hearing.

"No. Absolutely not." The officer replies. "You’ve got one minute."

"Jesus," Daniel curses under his breath. Footsteps are heard, walking away from them but Zayn and Niall still refuse to move their heads towards the scene.

Silence follows. Zayn gazes around the table - Harry’s biting his fingers and looking at Niall worriedly. Louis’ frowning in the direction of Daniel, looking slightly mad as he thinks about something. When Zayn looks at Liam he finds him already looking back. Zayn drops his gaze and squeezes Niall’s hand.

"I’m gonna ask." Louis says suddenly. The boys, including Niall, look up questioning. "The police officer, I mean. I’m gonna ask what penalties that pathetic twat has."

He goes to move passed Liam but Harry and Niall refuse at the same time, “No.”

Louis pauses. He looks at Niall first, then settles his eyes on Harry, “Well, why not?”

Zayn watches the fear in Harry’s eyes grow. He’s probably more scared of the things he’s heard about this criminal than the criminal himself.

“‘Cause he might come back.” Harry tells him quietly. Niall nods.

For a few seconds, Louis remains in a sitting yet standing pose, conflicted. Then as though the look in his boyfriend’s eyes was enough to make him sit, he sits.

"Fine, then." He says, readjusting the napkin on the table. "I’ll just live the rest of my life with the lack of knowledge of what the judge thought he deserved, shall I?"

They all fall silent again. Something inside Zayn sparks a little and he can’t help the nagging need that he wants to find out, too.

The feelings seem to be mutual, because not a second later, Liam’s standing.

"I’ll do it." He says. And before anyone can protest, he’s walking towards the officer.

Zayn’s eyes follow him. Liam walks up with sheer confidence and shakes the officer’s hand.

"He’s got some balls." Harry says, eyes fixed on Liam.

"Oh, come off it, will you?" Louis says. Zayn senses jealousy in his voice. "As if Daniel will try anything while an officer is standing _right_ there."

Harry shrugs. “He might.”

Louis rolls his eyes.

Now, Zayn doesn’t sense the burning anxiety radiating off Niall’s skin. Now, there’s something like cool air washing over the both of them as they press close together with their hands entwined. Now, for the first time, Niall seems to be calm.

"You’re not scared." Zayn whispers to him, his finger drawing lines up and down Niall’s arm.

Niall shakes his head. “Feels weird.”

They kiss and it’s light and comforting and quick but it’s all Niall needs to smile.

"Oo!" Harry says, tapping Louis’ arm once. "Liam’s coming back."

Louis, arms crossed, mutters something that nobody catches.

Zayn holds back a laugh, unable to contain his amusement at Louis’ sensitivity.

Liam sits down, locking eyes with Niall almost immediately.

"What’d he say?" Niall asks, voice wary as though he’s afraid of the answer.

"The court decides tomorrow." Liam says, eyes flicking up to meet something in the distance. "But for now, he’s in house arrest."

"Get the fuck off me, mate!"

The voice pierces through Zayn’s eardrums like a needle and thread. It’s not loud but it’s the recognition that pains him.

"Don’t turn around." Zayn whispers to Niall, just to make sure.

If Daniel ever saw him or Niall - even Liam - he’d ark up again like all those times before. Even so now that they’re the ones that finally put him in his place.

"Get to the car." The authority demands, the clatter of metal against metal is heard, followed by a sound of skin hitting hard against material, like a shove in the back almost.

"Liam, keep your head down." Zayn tells him quietly. Liam hides behind the menu.

Then the doors opens and closes, the sound of chimes echo throughout the diner and it’s like the whole place breathes out a sigh of relief.

Zayn watches out the window. Daniel is held by the wrists, his arms behind him as the police officer forces him to walk towards the cop car. The same reoccurring thought repeats in his mind - what if Niall never showed? If Liam never went? What if, after all this time, Niall was still living with that man, giving up his body in order to pay rent?

Zayn’s mouth starts to feel foul on his tongue. His stomach starts to churn and he wonders if he’s hot or just sweaty.

"Malik, you alright, bro?"

Louis’ question floats through Zayn’s echoic system like a snowflake ready to melt.

The police car drives around the car park, turning left in order to exit. It makes a circle before appearing next to the diner’s window.

Daniel sits in the backseat. His eyes take a moment to focus but once they do they’re deadly. They lock onto Niall’s through the glass straight away, his eyebrows furrow deeply and his rage is visible even through the tinted window. Then just before the car passes, his face flashes with recognition. He opens his mouth and shouts something that cannot be heard, the muscles in his neck tense up and his fist bangs against the glass like a caged animal desperate to get out.

And it’s enough for Zayn to run to the bathroom.

⋆

His eyes open to smooth fingers brushing up and down his shoulders. He remembers getting driven home by Louis, and remembers throwing up once more as soon as he got inside. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

When he moves his head he realises he’s tucked in bed, cuddled warmly into Niall’s side.

"Look at that, you’re awake!" Niall says, grinning from ear to ear.

Zayn shifts himself so he’s sitting and his stomach doesn’t seem to agree with the movement. He folds his arm over it. “Didn’t know I was asleep, to be fair.”

"Liam reckons it was what ya had at the diner." Niall says, "Which is weird ‘cause I had the same thing and feel normal!"

Zayn smiles and pokes Niall’s stomach lightly with his finger, “You’ve got a stomach made of steel, that’s why.”

Niall chuckles softly and grabs Zayn’s finger with his hand.

He kisses Zayn’s cheek and lays his head on his shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

Zayn feels fine, really. He doesn’t feel too hot anymore and he’s not sweating, his belly isn’t churning like it was at the diner but he still thinks that any form of food right now is repulsive.

"Better," He says, nodding, "can’t see myself eating for the rest of the day, though."

"Uh oh," Niall says, sucking in a sharp breath as his bottom lip stretches sideways, "you better tell that to Liam, then."

Zayn’s eyebrows pinch together, “What, why—?”

"Zaaaaayn!" Liam enters their bedroom, hands filled with a holder containing a glass full of water and a bowl containing some form of boiling soup. "You feeling better, mate? I’ve cooked you something that’ll soothe your insides. It’s perfect for upset tummies."

Zayn tries his hardest to look grateful and pleased, but even the aroma of it makes him feel queasy. Niall tries to stifle a laugh into Zayn’s shoulder.

"Thanks, Li."

Liam proudly walks over and places the tray near Zayn’s lap. He looks at Zayn like he’s still hurt and brushes his fingers through his hair.

"I’ll leave you to it, mate." Liam tells him, and brushes back Zayn’s hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead.

Then he walks out of the room, the sound of the door closes and it’s a cue for Niall to crack.

"Christ, he’s like me granny!"

"He’s always been like that, really." Zayn admits. "Sort of been my mother in that way."

Niall’s laughter sort of fades into a small smile and his eyes go soft. Zayn’s seen this type of expression on plenty of people before - the type that makes Zayn feel like he’s hurt, the type that initiates the tender touches and the ‘are you okay?”s - but it’s weird seeing it with Niall, it’s abstract in a way that it doesn’t belong on Niall’s face.

He puts his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and pulls him closer, enough so that he can feel the steady beat of Niall’s heart echo through his own chest.

"D’you still think about callin’? You know, your family?"

Zayn shuts his eyes for a moment or two. He lets out a long, silent breath and brings images of his mother and sisters to the back of his eyelids.

He opens them again, right before his mother starts to turn angry.

"I dunno." Zayn tells him with a shrug.

The room swims with hesitant questions, as though Niall keeps opening his mouth but shuts it at the last second, and Zayn suddenly feels something apologetic in the depth of his stomach.

It reminds him of the queasiness he felt earlier and he rolls over onto his side, wrapping his arms around his waist.

⋆

Niall’s asleep when Zayn wakes. He searches his bedside table with his hand lazily in the darkness until he eventually finds his phone. He views it from his bed, the sudden glare of light stings his eyes, and the time that reads on it tells him it’s eleven at night.

He shuts it off and turns over in bed. Niall’s laid next to him, his back facing him, the silent sounds he makes as he breathes in and out is all that fills the room.

Zayn contemplates shutting his eyes again - just turning over and starting a new cycle of sleep - but something’s preventing that. There’s something in the midst of his core that’s scratching at him desperately, something that’s refusing to let Zayn fall into a state peaceful enough to become unconscious until morning.

Then the sound of muffled, recorded voices can be heard, followed by a recognisable laugh.

He figures that Liam would still be awake. He’s almost forgotten how terrible of a sleeper he is. Zayn’s never understood how Liam can still function more brightly than Zayn during the day even when he only got half the amount of shut-eye during the night.

He glances over to Niall, noticing how his pale skin glows underneath the gaze of the moon, how his eyelashes cast small shadows on his cheeks, how his lips are slightly parted open and how his chest rises and falls like a routine.

It’s not until he hears another laugh from Liam when he breaks his moment of awe.

Whipping off the duvet - quiet enough to not wake Niall - he curses underneath his breath at the sudden cold and grabs the nearest jumper he can find. Pulling it over his head, he walks out of the bedroom. The T.V’s playing some sitcom that Zayn’s never seen. Liam’s on the couch, holding a warm drink in his hands and looking at the screen like he’s waiting for the next punch line.

He catches Zayn’s eye after a few moments, and immediately sits up cautiously. “Oh, why’re you up, mate? Are you feeling okay? Did the soup do any good?”

"Couldn’t sleep." Zayn tells him, flopping onto the couch next to him. "And I feel fine, Liam. The soup helped heaps, thanks."

He makes a mental note to drain the soup down the sink as soon as he goes back into the bedroom.

Liam smiles, almost to himself. “I knew it would.” He says, then his eyebrows pull together, “But why couldn’t you sleep? That’s weird.”

"Yeah," Zayn itches at his head once or twice, trying to think of a way to bring up the conversation without it being too draining. "Niall brought up - well, _I_ brought up my family and… like, callin’ in on them and stuff. Guess it sorta made me start thinkin’, you know, that I should." He doesn’t meet Liam eyes. But once he does, he drops the contact straight away. "But I dunno, actually."

Liam’s careful with his answer. Zayn can tell. It’s burning through the entire room like an obvious flame.

"I think you should." He says, voice soft. "I mean, you’ve hardly spoken to them since you left—"

"Since they kicked me out," Zayn corrects under his breath.

"—and they’re probably scared to talk to you because they know that you’re still angry. It’s worth a shot, man, there’s not much you can lose from it."

Zayn chews his lip in thought. Liam’s words consolidate in his mind and it puts a certain ease on him. And instead of words, Zayn’s scoots over to Liam and flicks his legs up onto the couch. He tucks an arm underneath Liam’s and rests his head on his shoulder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update will come sooner i swear :) 
> 
> P.S thank YOU for all the lovely comments!! it keeps me going it really does, all your beautiful thoughts and admiration are like fuel for me haha! thank you thank you thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

His neck hurts and his hand is numb, throbbing underneath his cheek from where it’s been placed for the past few hours. He blinks his eyes open, met with the brightening light of earliness.

Zayn’s mind starts to jumble; he’s been in a state of waking up so very often that it almost seems like a complete daze to him now.

He tries to roll over and meet Niall, doesn’t even contemplate how the sun is reaching him, and it’s then, as his face is met with the back of the couch, when he realises where exactly he is.

He looks up and sees Liam, silently sleeping and cosy, and Zayn wonders why he’s so attracted to this damn couch.

It smells like morning and Zayn wants to barf from it. It reminds him of work - which, by the way, is something that Zayn hasn’t returned to, yet - and although the smell is pleasant, the association is not so.

He sits up and rolls his shoulders back. He glances over to Liam, still sound asleep like he could be for a few more hours, and Zayn feels like he has to document this day - the day he woke up before Liam.

And with a disgruntled sigh, he gets up from the couch and moves towards the kitchen. It’s not long until the cold reaches the back of his neck, the bottoms of his feet, the inside of his wrists. He wonders how he slept so bare last night without waking up with a cold shiver. Then he remembers how naturally _warm_ Liam is, all those nights in those cold winters as he and Liam would sit by his fire.

He’s waiting for the kettle to boil when last night’s thoughts suddenly enter his mind like an avalanche brought on by an unwanted scream.

He thinks about his sisters - all three of them - and thinks about what Liam said. He thinks about what they’re up to, what they’re doing now, what lives they have. He thinks about these things and it’s the first time he has since forever.

Despite the creeping sun, the tiles still chill the bottoms of his feet and the coldness throughout the house grows until it’s unbearable as he stands in the kitchen. He enters his bedroom hurriedly, searching for a coat.

Though, he stops as he enters to take in the wonderful sight.

Niall, warm and comfortable in the middle of the bed, wrapped up in amongst the white sheets like he belongs there, smiles into the pillow as though someone just complimented him.

Zayn fights every urge he has to not join him. It’s not like he _couldn’t_ , of course, it’s just that if he _did_ , he’s certain he wouldn’t be able to leave.

So, he grabs the nearest, woolliest jumper he can find and slips it over his head. The kettle boils in the next room, the water bubbling inside it until it stops, then the sound of a switch flicks upwards.

Zayn turns to exit, though when he does, his foot touches something hard. He looks down with a frown and recognises it straight away. He can see from the front page that it’s Niall’s family photo album - the one he showed Zayn all those weeks back.

The vision dawns on Zayn. The smile Niall had when he talked about each family member, the stories he had for each photo, the love in his eyes as he flipped through the pages. It dawns on him that he’s never been able to do that - never _will_ be able to, probably.

And it’s then, without another doubt in his mind, when he decides to make the call.

⋆

He leans against the balcony’s fence, phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His coffee’s sitting next to him on the barrier, the steam slightly hitting the side of Zayn’s jaw, the only sense of direct warmth he feels. The tips of his fingers are so cold they’ve turned numb and he can hardly feel any of his toes.

Waliyha's number is present on Zayn’s screen. It’s without a photo, of course, since the only memory Zayn has of her is from years ago and only in his mind.

He takes the end of the cigarette and presses it down into the ashtray beside him. He sips his coffee and looks out over the town.

This phone call could either start something or do absolutely nothing. And that sense of leaping, that sense of taking something and running with it reminds him of Niall, and how grabbing opportunities can lead to something beautiful.

He presses call. He takes in a deep breath. He lets it out and listens as it rings over and over again.

There was no guarantee that she was going to pick up, was there? She’s probably looking at her phone and either disregarding it or waiting for it to stop ringing - and this all depends on whether she has his number saved in her phone or not.

Five rings in and Zayn’s about to give up. He takes it away from his ear and shakes his head at himself - why would she even _want_ to speak to him, anyway?

But then, in amongst the already busy traffic and sounds of the morning birds, a faint little voice says, _hello_?

Zayn’s eyes widen. He brings the phone up to his ear suddenly and finds himself _smiling_ at the sound of her voice.

" _Hello_?" She asks again, more questioning.

"Hey, hello." Zayn manages to choke out.

" _Hi_?" She replies, confused. " _Who is this, sorry_?"

She sounds so much older, probably looks so much older, too.

"It’s, uh, it’s Zayn. How’re you doing?"

He hopes the question disguises the name, hopes it covers it up like sand and dims the effect it has on her ears.

It doesn’t.

" _Zayn_?!" She asks, exasperated. " _You’re meaning to tell me that Zayn, my brother who I haven’t spoken to since I was nine, is on the phone to me right now_?"

"Yeah, I," Zayn looks down at his feet that shuffle as he speaks, "I thought I’d call—"

" _Oh, you thought you’d_ call _, did you_?"

Zayn swallows. He’s not sure whether Waliyha's mad or just surprised. Whichever it is, it makes his palms sweat.

"Well, I, I’ve just been thinkin’—"

" _Jesus Christ. I can’t believe it’s you_!" She laughs and it makes his chest warm a little. " _What’ve you been doin’, anyway? You disappear for what seems like three years and haven’t heard from ya since_!"

Zayn’s not entirely sure whether “disappear” is referring to being kicked out or if Waliyha was too young to even understand what went on that night. Zayn decides not to ask, decides not to tell her, he doesn’t want to bring the mood down since his heart his warming up his entire body and he’s smiling at the sound of her voice.

So, he tells her pretty much everything. Where he’s living, where he’s working, he tells her about Liam and Harry and Louis, tells her about Niall (which makes her gasp and squeal and makes Zayn blush completely) and practically everything he can think of. He leaves out Daniel, though, of course, since - in Zayn’s mind, Waliyha's innocence is still untouched and unbroken.

" _God, if only mum let us know where you went_." She says, and Zayn’s smile drops.

☼

Niall awakes - purely because he had rolled over a bit too far and bumped the front of his head on the bedside table.

"Fuckin’ ‘ell," He groans, rolling onto his back. He rubs at his head and as he hears the sound of feet walking around on the tiles from the kitchen, quickly noticing that Zayn’s no longer in bed. He checks the time and it’s only nine-thirty in the morning.

Zayn’s either extremely sick or has gone to work - they’re the only two reasons Niall can think of to justify the reasoning of Zayn’s disappearance so early in the morning.

He scratches his head and steps out from the warm bed, cursing at the stinging coldness that rapidly reaches his skin. He wraps Zayn’s dressing gown around his body immediately, which is where he notices Zayn’s work uniform hung up on the same hanger.

He quirks an eyebrow. So if he’s not at work, then why the _hell_ is he awake?

He walks into the kitchen and is met with Liam cooking himself breakfast. His hair’s a mess, each strand at a different angle, and his eyes are droopy like he’s just woken up, too.

"Right, what’s goin’ on? First Malik’s up before twelve and you’ve just gotten up after sunrise. Am I missin’ somethin’?"

Niall takes a seat at the counter as Liam laughs.

"Well, actually," Liam says, flipping an egg in the frypan, "he woke me up! Been talking on the phone for ages now."

Niall frowns at him, confused. Liam cocks his chin towards the balcony and Niall follows the movement, looking in that direction.

He sees Zayn leant up against the railing, phone to his ear. He stands up as he laughs, loud enough to be heard through the glass door.

"Who is it?" Niall asks, eyes still on Zayn.

"Not sure." Liam answers. "Thought it might’ve been Harry or Louis but he’s never been able to talk to them on the phone for this long."

"That’s weird." Niall says, turning back to Liam. "Wonder who it is."

"Yeah, me too." Liam replies, picking up the cooked egg and placing it onto the toast he already has on his plate. "Want one?"

"Mm," Niall hums in delight. "Yes, please, mate."

The aroma quickly surrounds the room yet despite his hungry stomach and eagerness to eat, Niall still finds himself looking over towards Zayn. He unknowingly bites his lip, juggling up his options of whether or not to go out and join him.

"I don’t think he’d mind." Liam says, snapping Niall out of his conflicting thoughts. He turns towards him and Liam smiles, nodding his head outside, "I’d do it but he’d probably give me a hit, to be honest."

Niall laughs. “And what makes ya think he won’t be doin’ that to me?”

Liam raises one eyebrow and Niall feels sort of stupid for asking that all of a sudden. Then, Liam says, “Uh, because he loves you? In like, a romantic way, obviously. Not a friendship way with me.” He looks over towards Zayn, totally disregarding the fact that he just put the warmest feeling inside Niall. “Yeah,” He continues, sure of himself, “couldn’t ever imagine him gettin’ mad with you, there’s no way.”

Niall smiles softly at that, his eyes dropping to his interlocked hands. He likes that Liam seems so sure, likes that Zayn’s friend knows that Zayn loves Niall. He wonders if Liam knows that Niall loves him, too.

He looks up, and Liam’s cooking his own eggs when he desperately says, “I love him, too.”

It’s almost a declaration, a feared sense that his affection isn’t showed often enough for other people around them to know how much Zayn means. Besides, Zayn _did_ say Niall didn’t make his feelings clear enough for him.

Liam turns his head with a frown, “What’d you say, there?”

Alright, maybe it’s not worth Liam knowing.

"Doesn’t matter, mate."

He casts his eyes back over to Zayn. He feels something leap inside him when he notices that he’s no longer on the phone.

Niall bounces out of the chair and crosses the room before he opens the glass door apprehensively; making sure that it’s okay to come out. When Zayn doesn’t turn at the sound, Niall steps out anyway and closes the door behind him.

He comes up behind Zayn and loops his arms around Zayn’s waist, resting his head on his back pleasantly. “Hey.”

"Hey," Zayn replies, resting one of his hands on top of Niall’s, "what’re you doin’ up?"

Niall lifts his head up and looks at him sceptically. He doesn’t look at him like that for long, though, since Zayn’s entire being is still always such a hard thing to digest as soon as he wakes up. Niall still thinks he needs at least three to four hours to cope being around somebody so damn attractive.

"It’s, like, ten o’clock." Niall says, "Why were _you_ up so early?"

A pause follows and it’s bigger than Niall had anticipated. He moves to Zayn’s side to watch his expression. He’s looking out over the town, his eyelashes casting shadows over his cheekbones, his lips developing a dark colour of blue from the cold and his eyes are distant, like they are when he’s deeply thinking about something.

Niall could watch him forever.

"I called Waliyha." He finally says. Niall’s eyes widen.

"You called--" Niall starts, Zayn nods. " _Wow_. And like, how- how did it go? Like, was it weird?"

"She was pretty spooked, you know, about me callin’ her and stuff." He says. And as he talks his lip starts to quirk up into a smile and Niall can see how much hearing her voice means to him. "But after we got chattin’ it was… cool. She’s great." He finally connects with Niall’s eyes and gives him a knowing smile, "She wants to meet you."

" _Me_?" Niall points to himself and Zayn nods. "I’d meet her with you, if you want, seriously."

"That’d be sick, yeah." Zayn says, giving him a grateful look.

☼

"So," Niall says, leaning up against the doorway in time to see Zayn changing tops, "Liam’s out."

Zayn looks up and smirks, “Is he?”

He pulls on a t-shirt that hugs him perfectly. His slender figure and tattoos on either arm is enough for Niall to almost sink to his knees by reflex. He’d be lying if he didn’t feel the exact same that time when he first saw Zayn.

God, when he first saw Zayn it was like everything in him pointed to north. He’s pretty sure he had to think about rotten things just to make his erection go down.

Living with him didn’t make it any easier, though, either. Seeing him fresh out of the shower, seeing him just woken up still perfect as anything, seeing him smile and laugh like he didn’t just shoot hypothetical arrows through every organ of his body. And when Daniel came, when Zayn defended him, _that’s_ when Niall knew this wasn’t some petty little crush.

"Yep," Niall replies, walking into the room. He steps close to Zayn and pulls at his new shirt. "So I don’t know why you’re gettin’ dressed."

Zayn quirks an eyebrow, his fingers quickly finding their place on Niall’s hips, bringing them closer. “Was cold, that’s why.”

Niall laughs, bringing his hand to tug at the hem of Zayn’s t-shirt, “Stop bein’ weak, then, and get it off.”

"You’re a bossy guy, you know that?"

He laughs again, “Shut up.”

Niall takes off the shirt from Zayn’s body, his eyes soaking up the sight before him. The small light from the moon peers in through the window and it reflects on Zayn’s chest, making his skin so desirable and bright that Niall could kiss every part and it’d be glorious.

Zayn pulls him closer and kisses him, his hands moving over the waistband of Niall’s trousers, hoisting them down. He grinds down onto him and Niall moans a little into Zayn’s mouth, his hungry hands gripping at Zayn’s back, his fingernails possibly leaving tracks in his skin.

They move towards the bed and Niall falls onto it, their lips breaking apart. He crawls back so there’s enough room for both of them and Zayn moves on top, his face looking godly from above him. His eyes sparkle and his lips are shiny and his weight on Niall’s body is everything to him.

"You’re a fuckin’ masterpiece." Niall tells him, looking at Zayn like he wasn’t real.

Then Zayn smiles, “No, you are.” And kisses his neck.

Niall could argue but he doesn’t want him to stop. He presses kisses further down, eventually reaching Niall’s boxers. He’s hard against his thigh, and Zayn takes advantage of this.

He sucks in a breath as Zayn pulls down Niall’s pants. He knows he won’t be able to last, especially knowing that _Zayn’s_ the one going down on him. And as Zayn takes a hold of his cock, his mouth hovering directly above it, Niall clings at the sheets.

Zayn takes him in his mouth, his warm breath and tongue sends shivers down Niall’s spine and he has to lift his hips up and close his eyes, thighs almost quivering as Zayn slicks him up.

Then, without warning, Zayn sucks on two of his fingers and places one onto Niall’s hole. He cries out brokenly - yet it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

He looks down at Zayn with a shocked expression and Zayn takes his finger out.

"Sound as though you like that."

Niall lays his head back onto the pillow, and then nods. “Yeah,” he says, “do it again.”

Zayn puts in one finger again and twists it in a way that makes Niall’s eyes shoot open. Then Zayn’s mouth is on him again, hand at the base while his tongue licks the top.

"Jesus _Christ_."

He hopes this never stops but he knows he can’t hold on much longer. Zayn glides in another finger and it makes Niall’s hips jolt. His fingers curl and Niall comes, un-expectantly and loud, letting out a choked sound that echoes through the room.

"Fuck," He says, out of breath, " _fuck_ , Zayn."

He looks at him and he’s in the middle of wiping at his jaw. There’s come on the side of his face and mouth, painted on like acrylics on perfect paper.

"Did I get it all?" He asks him, and then licks the side of his mouth, collecting some that he’d missed.

Oh, god.

"It looks good on you." He says with a smile, not lying in the slightest.

Zayn laughs and shakes his head, “Bossy and strange, you are.”

"Just lie with me, Malik."

Zayn presses one last, soft kiss on the inside of Niall’s thigh and lies down beside him, his leg slotting in between Niall’s. He instantly grabs Niall’s hand and squeezes it.

Niall kisses the top of Zayn’s head and doesn’t miss the way his lips curl up at the touch of it. He can feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes and Niall uses it as a guide so he can level out his own.

The darkness throughout the room mimics the black sky outside, missing out on the stars within it. His arm is laid stretched out beside him, his hand interlocked with Zayn’s – while his other hand is placed on Zayn’s shoulder, his fingers caressing it ever so softly.

It’s not long until Zayn’s asleep. Niall can always tell when he is; his fingers become slack between his own and his mouth falls open slightly.

It’s also not long until Niall’s reoccurring thoughts rattle through his brain. Thoughts like _shit, he’s so beautiful_ and _how in God’s name do I deserve him_? and, as always, _I am so grateful and lucky to have you_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being so patient ;-) also i hope you liked niall's pov! update soon xx


	13. Chapter 13

Days pass - a routine quickly settles around the apartment.

Zayn would wake up at seven, take a shower, get dressed and kiss a sleepy Niall on the head before heading out the door with the takeaway coffee Liam would make him.

He forgot how much working caused him to want to fly out the window. He gets through the day by having a photo of him and Niall as his wallpaper on his computer, one that Louis had taken of them together, one where Niall’s sitting on Zayn’s lap pouting at him for a kiss and Zayn’s looking up at him with a smile.

Niall calls him every day at lunchtime, usually complaining that he didn’t get to say goodbye. Zayn tells him he looked too cute to wake up. Then Niall would tell him to come home early, something that he’s _sure_ he’d be able to get away with. And Zayn would laugh, think about how easy that would be, but eventually explains that no, he can’t.

It’s not until a few weeks later, after Zayn presses a kiss to Niall’s head, when he enters the kitchen and is faced with Liam - with a serious look in his eye and no takeaway coffee in his hand.

Zayn nods him a silent ‘good morning’ and steps into the kitchen tentatively. Liam doesn’t say anything, just watches as Zayn moves around.

Zayn doesn’t question it, he already knows what Liam’s about to say. So, he picks up the already filled kettle and sets it back down, turning it on.

He knows Liam’s waiting for Zayn to say something - to look at him sceptically and ask what’s going on. But Zayn’s not here for a lecture, doesn’t want to spend his morning arguing and convincing Liam he’s okay, he’s fine, it’s just life, Liam.

It’s not until Zayn’s taking out his usual coffee mug and setting it on the bench when Liam cracks.

"Don’t make it." He says, his voice tense.

Zayn doesn’t face him for a second. He keeps his hold on the mug and sighs deeply.

"Coffee’s not gonna kill me, y’know."

He opens the coffee can and takes a tablespoon from the top drawer, ready to pour it into his mug. But with a spoonful of coffee in his hand, Liam swipes out and grabs Zayn’s arm, making the coffee spill onto the bench.

Zayn pauses for a moment. Then frowns. “Look what you’ve done, Leeyum!”

He tries to calm him, use his nickname in hopes that Liam will loosen his surprisingly possessive grip on his arm. But when he glances up at him, his eyes are already fixated, staring with such concern and impatience that Zayn’s stomach actually drops.

"You’re staying home today." He says, like an order.

"What?" Zayn pulls back, tries to pull his arm out but soon realises that’s undeniably impossible. "I can’t just _stay_ home, Liam, I have to earn—"

"Look at you, Zayn." Liam’s face softens, giving Zayn a once-over. He drops his hand and Zayn looks at the finger marks left over in his skin that are slowly disappearing. "Honestly, _look_ at yourself."

"I do." Zayn says, continuing with his morning, walking to the fridge to take out the milk. "I look at myself every day, it’s impossible not to, with the mirrors in my bathroom and everything."

Liam huffs out a frustrated sigh. He watches as Zayn moves around again and Zayn notices the way his fingers twitch, like they’re anticipating to stop him. “That’s not what - shit, Zayn, listen.”

The kettle boils and Zayn picks it up.

"Listen!" Liam shouts. Zayn flinches. He hasn’t heard Liam shout like that for a long time, has _never_ shouted like that at _him_.

He places the kettle back down and turns around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, lastly meeting Liam’s eyes.

He’s apologetic already. Liam runs his hand through his hair. He sighs, crosses his arms and ankles as he leans against the opposite side of the bench and Zayn stays quiet, waits for Liam to talk.

"Niall and I have discussed it. And for at least two weeks you’ve been coming home completely wrecked and - and I _know_ you want the best for Niall but the best for Niall is for _you_ to be alive when he sees you!"

Zayn feels that like a kick to the stomach. He knows this. It hasn’t sunk into his brain yet but he’s known when it’s started and how he comes home and sleeps until it’s morning again. Knows how extremely pissed off Niall sounds on the phone when he complains that his alarm didn’t wake himself up in the morning. Knows how he’s left no time to ask about their day, to check in and have a laugh. He’s known this, but thought that those were the luxuries he had to give up.

"Well," Zayn says, darting his eyes everywhere but Liam, "what about when we become poor, homeless - I’m lucky to have this job because of my track record. And Niall—"

"Niall can find work placement easily." Liam states. Zayn bites his lip, unable to _not_ think about how Niall got his last ‘job’. "Also, I don’t think you understand who you’re talking to. I can lend you money, Louis and Harry can lend you money, it’s not hard, we’ll pitch in—"

"No way." Zayn shakes his head, picking up the kettle and pouring it into the mug without hesitating. "I’m doing something for myself. When the weekend rolls around, I’ll be fine."

Liam lets out a deflated sigh, his eyes fall to his shoes. The sound of the slightly less boiled water pouring into the thermal mug is the only thing that can be heard.

"Thanks for making me late, though." Zayn replies, picking up his mug and his keys, then heads out the door.

⋆

At 7:35AM Zayn’s fingers drum at the sides of his steering wheel as he waits in traffic. _Liam’s just an over-worrier, needs to get a grip, that guy_. And he huffs out a sigh.

At 10:01AM he sits by his desk, leaning back into his chair and pressing his fingers together so they don’t cramp up. _Do it for Niall. Do it for Niall. Do it for Niall_ he chants in his head, a ritual he does every time he thinks that the window next to him would be a better exit than the stairs.

At 1:45PM his phone rings and Zayn picks it up immediately, expecting the call. “Hey, babe.”

" _Heard Liam spoke to ya_." He says, and Zayn tries to dictate the emotion in his voice.

"Yeah, he did." His stomach grumbles but he has to ignore it, doesn’t have time to eat. "So, what’re you doing?"

" _Don’t change the subject, Malik_." Niall’s tone is playful but Zayn rolls his eyes anyway. " _Me and Liam both reckon ya quit this job. Y’know, today_."

Zayn almost wants to cry at how much he _yearns_ to do that. But he glances up over his small office and spots his shouting boss, telling someone off for wearing inappropriate attire.

"How ‘bout I quit after I find another job, hm?"

" _Ya barely have time for me! How’re you gonna have time to sit down and search for somethin’_?"

Niall’s not annoyed, just fed up, maybe. Zayn’s hunger settles but instead it fills with buckets of guilt.

"I’ll - I’ll think about it, yeah? I miss you, too, but I’ll see you on the weekend. All weekend."

He tells himself it’s only because Zayn’s been away from work for so long that the two of them find his absence absurd and uncalled for. He tells himself that asking for longer hours and more shifts will be beneficial for them in the long run. He tells himself this, because at 4:15PM, he has to last another 10 minutes before he can go home.

⋆

He collapses onto his bed after he throws off his jeans, kicks off his shoes and tosses his shirt onto the floor. Thankfully, Liam’s in the shower and Niall wasn’t anywhere Zayn could see when he walked in.

It’s not like he doesn’t _want_ to see them after a long day, but he’d just much rather rejuvenate until he has enough energy to lighten up and talk normally. He hates being perceived as a snob, would hate to let either of them think that he didn’t want to talk.

He closes his eyes and lets relaxation take over. It’s raining, and the sound of it taps on the roof, surrounding Zayn’s entire room with softness and a sort of blue that comes in through the window. He’s just about to sleep, he reckons - until he feels another person’s weight on the bed.

He doesn’t look to see who it is. He already knows by the way Niall settles his head to the crook of Zayn’s neck and how he wraps his arm around Zayn’s middle. Zayn brings him in closer, his arms encasing around him.

He opens his eyes slightly and kisses the top of Niall’s head.

"You alright, babe?"

Niall trails his hand along Zayn’s stomach for a small while, unresponsive. His fingers touch his sides and Zayn flinches, letting out a laugh.

"Hey! I’m ticklish there, you know."

"Zayn." Niall finally looks at him; Zayn’s name echoing through the room, said with such desperation that it makes his face fall. Zayn looks at Niall and spots the wetness on his eyes.

"Babe, what’s goin’ on?" Zayn holds Niall closer; Niall rests his head back onto his chest. Zayn frowns and he kisses his head a few times, the rain starts to get louder. "Niall, why’re you upset? What’s happened?"

"You, you’re- you’re," Niall lifts himself up as his voice cracks on the last word. He folds back the covers and reveals Zayn’s body. Niall looks down at it as a tear drops down one of his cheeks. "Skin and bones, you are."

"Niall, what?"

Zayn sits up, confusion rattles through his brain as he watches Niall bat away his tears. All he wants to do is cradle him until he’s alright, but as soon as he tries to reach out, Niall rejects him.

"You don’t eat anymore, Zayn."

"I do, Ni—"

"No, you don’t! Thought Liam was over-exaggerating, y’know. About you fadin’ away. But I can’t even cuddle ya, babe. There’s nothin’ there."

Zayn swallows. He thinks back to the past couple of weeks. Tries to think of the last proper meal he’s had. When it dawns on him that the only substance he’s had today is half a coffee and water, his eyes widen.

"Okay, babe, okay." Zayn says, softly. He reaches out again and this time Niall accepts it and falls right into his side. "I’ll eat more often, then. I’ll eat as much as you want me to. Does that sound good?"

Niall nods. Zayn wraps his arm around Niall’s middle and holds his hand.

"S’not the only thing." He says. Zayn looks at him. "You’ve got bags underneath your eyes, somethin’ me and Liam have never seen before."

Zayn shrugs, tries to brush it off as not a big deal. “Not necessarily a _bad_ thing—”

"And Louis and Harry said they haven’t spoken to you since you went back to work."

Zayn looks towards the ceiling. The rain gets louder. “They always call when I can’t talk! I’m—”

"Zayn," Niall says, "Liam said he’s starting to notice you fallin’ back into the same hole you were once in."

The rain suddenly stops.

Zayn remains quiet. His eyes drop from Niall’s and he starts to play with his own fingers, unwrapping himself from Niall as Niall sits up to face him.

He didn’t want Niall to know about what he was like during high school - didn’t want anyone to know, more specifically.

Harry and Louis don’t even know. Well, unless Liam has told _them_ too, that is.

Truth is, the memories of it - the recollection of it even _happening_ \- is so pushed back into his mind that he hasn’t even thought about it once up until now.

Without looking up, Zayn asks in a low voice, “What do you know?”

There’s a slight pause in his answer. Zayn wonders whether or not that’s because Niall’s trying to cover up a lie for Liam’s sake.

"Not a lot. I know that you weren’t… the happiest, in high school." Niall says. Zayn swallows. "All Liam told me was that the symptoms that he once saw, back in the day, are now reappearin’, and that he doesn’t wanna see you go back to that ‘place’ again."

Zayn nods. It’s probably best that Niall doesn’t know the full story.

Like Wahliya, Zayn feels like subjecting Niall to the darkness and angst of his past would be too harmful, despite Niall’s own unhappy past. And, of course, Zayn doesn’t want Niall to worry even _more_ ; since the boy’s already in tears, for Christ sake.

“‘M fine now, just so you know.” Zayn confirms, trying to put an end to this conversation. He finally looks up at Niall and blinks once or twice before taking in a breath. “So,” He says with a sigh, “what’d you do today?”

Niall’s eyes falter and they land at his now crossed legs. Zayn feels his stomach sink a little, knowing that no matter how hard he can attempt to change the subject, Niall won’t move on until he’s satisfied.

Then, like a nervous boy on the first date, his hand reaches for Zayn’s and takes it apprehensively. Zayn frowns at the uneasiness of the movement and glances up to see Niall looking at him worriedly.

"Zayn," He says, calmly, "Liam’s already called the office. He did it when you came home."

Zayn’s eyes immediately dart angrily towards the door. That _bastard_ , that absolute back-stabbing—

Zayn doesn’t even realise that he’s straining to get off the bed until Niall eventually uses enough force to push him back down. That movement alone is a realisation of how skinny and weak he’s gradually become.

"Can’t ya see how bad it’s gettin’?" Niall frowns at him, his voice forceful. "Jesus, Zayn, it’s for the best, why can’t ya see that?"

Zayn looks at his eyes and he’s never seen this amount of frustration and emotion within them before. He can feel his heart beat heavily inside him, feel how his pulse quickens on his skin.

He knows there’s no fighting it now. And looking into Niall’s eyes - watching how they look into Zayn’s, the way they are filled with so much intensity and fear - he somehow gives in automatically.

He relaxes underneath Niall’s hold. Niall’s hands slowly release off his chest and his eyes sort of soften.

Then Zayn sighs. He’s sighing a lot lately but he feels that’s the only thing he can do when he’s defeated.

"Okay." Zayn tells him, as though he even _had_ a choice in the first place. But suddenly choice doesn’t even have an input anyway when he sees the corners of Niall’s mouth begin to curve upwards into a smile. "But, what I don’t understand is how we’ll be able to afford—"

"Shh," Niall says, shaking his head, "don’t worry about that now." He grabs Zayn’s hand again, fingers interlocking like they belong there. "Come have dinner."

⋆

That night - after a dinner that consisted of nothing but cautious looks (Niall and Liam pausing to watch every time Zayn takes a bite) and Zayn’s shitty attempts at starting conversations that didn’t revolve around the elephant in the room - Zayn has a shower.

It’s like a gate that has been sealing off an entire ocean for years has finally been unlocked and opened, and the water that’s been trapped behind it has been released, flooding Zayn’s mind.

The ocean is Zayn’s memories. He suddenly remembers the miserable days and nights, how he’d be extremely moody without any _real_ explanation. He remembers coming home and snapping it at his mother and sisters, and most of all snapping it at Liam. He remembers the not eating, the excessive consumption of weed, the lack of sleep.

He realises how Liam must have noticed before he did himself.

But he knows he’s not spiralling down that hole again. Remembering now, how bad he was and how hard it was to get out of it, he _knows_ that right now, he’s fine.

And maybe he’s jumping out on a limb here, and maybe his mind’s taken a toll on him, and maybe this complete absurdity of events that have occurred has made him think bizarrely - but something inside of him is sure that he’s okay because now he has Niall to keep him happy. And as the image of Niall’s face after he tried to hug him fills Zayn’s mind - the pure worry and fear, the welling of his eyes, the sadness in his voice - Zayn feels his own tears surround his eyes, cursing to himself for letting him down and vowing to never let Niall look or feel that way again.

So, as he steps out of the bathroom, he pulls up the energy to not fall onto the bed immediately. Instead, he opens the bedside table drawer and holds the pouch of weed in his hand.

Too many times he’s had the thoughts of quitting, too many times he’s been close to telling Liam that he’s had enough and should be proud, too many times he’s caved in and rolled one instead.

He scrunches it up in his fist - this is what made him sad, what made him angry, what made him snap at his family and Liam when he didn’t have enough, this is what made his mother kick him out, this is what he had to feel high when everything else around him felt low. He doesn’t need this to have that feeling anymore, he decides.

And with a deep breath he crosses the room towards his window, opening it to reveal the night sky covered with stars. His skin instantly fills with goose bumps as the chilly air touches it.

Then he tosses the pouch out the window, watching as his old form of escape quickly falls away.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Zayn wakes with a start. He first sees the sun that’s peering through his window and that’s what throws him off. The sun’s not supposed to be up yet; his alarm hasn’t even gone off. He reaches over to his bedside table and checks the time.

" _Shit_." Zayn curses under his breath, in a rush to get up.

He’s going to be late and his absence isn’t earning him money. He could be making some right now if he was there, and if he’s not there then how will he support Niall? He can’t be late, he can’t skip work, he has to be on time.

But before he can swing his legs over the bed, Niall must have awoken from Zayn’s sudden wake.

"Shh, I can hear ya worryin’ from ‘ere." He mumbles, voice thick with sleep. He rolls over and automatically curls into Zayn’s side, his arm wrapped around Zayn’s middle and his leg in between Zayn’s.

Zayn frowns down at him, “I gotta get to work, I’m already late.”

Niall seems to wake fully from that. He looks up at Zayn and his eyes scan Zayn’s face once before blinking.

It’s then, that Zayn remembers the events from last night. His mind recoils from the old routine he set himself and has pieced together their new outcome.

"Oh," He says, sheepishly. "Right. Sorry I woke you."

Niall gives him another look, but this time his eyebrows form on his face to look worried. Then he shakes his head and presses a kiss to Zayn’s lips.

"Don’t be sorry. Now we can finally sleep in together again." He nuzzles his head into the crook of Zayn’s neck and shoulder and trails his finger down Zayn’s bare chest softly.

Zayn hums contently and kisses the top of Niall’s head. He whispers another _sorry_ before kissing him again. He’s not really sure whether Niall hears him or not, but the apology was for much more than accidentally waking him up.

Then, a few moments later, right before Zayn starts to fall back asleep, he hears Niall say, “me too.”

⋆

Liam’s out for the day, ironically working, (“Why can Liam work and not me?” “God, Zayn, you’re impossible.”) which leaves Zayn and Niall sitting on the bar stools at the kitchen bench, flipping through this morning’s newspaper trying to find a suitable job.

"How ‘bout this one?" Niall says after a long moment of idle silence. He points to his side of the paper, a box titled ‘Retail’, "Says it’s flexible hours with no needed experience."

Zayn shrugs. This is the fourth option Niall’s pointed out. It’s not that he _doesn’t_ like these offers, but he can’t help and look at the hourly rate and cringe at how much that differs from the wage he was getting back at the office.

"Yeah, circle it." Zayn says anyway.

Niall grabs the fine liner willingly and draws a circle around the box.

Silence falls over the apartment again. The muffled sounds of busy traffic pollute the outside air and Zayn can’t help but feel like he should be there joining it. He glares at his side of the paper, his eyes scan the page but none of the words register into his mind. He doesn’t want something that won’t support the two of them on their own, doesn’t want to be a failure like his dad was.

"Here’s one," Niall offers again, pointing firmly into another box, "gardener. Twenty-five an hour plus free drinks, it says! Fuckin’ oath." He starts laughing and Zayn smiles at him.

"That’d be perfect for you," Zayn jokes, turning back to the paper. He scans the page once more yet nothing pops out still, they’re either for students or people with experience or out in God knows where - it’s a shame that he can’t dance, otherwise a pole dancer wouldn’t be hurtful. Zayn has heard that they get paid quite a lot, too.

He feels eyes locked onto the side of his head and he turns to meet Niall, a look so eager that he may as well have a lit light bulb on top of his head.

"Well, how ‘bout it then?" Niall asks, shifting in his stool to face Zayn properly. "Why don’t _I_ just get a job instead?"

Zayn shakes his head immediately, his stomach lurching uncomfortably at the thought. “No, don’t be silly, Ni. You don’t wanna do that.” He spots the hurt that fills Niall’s face and Zayn’s voice softens, his hand touching Niall’s knee, “I’ll work, yeah? You just stay at home and not worry about a thing.”

Niall pulls his eyebrows together slightly, “Why not? I’m able to get a job, y’know.”

Zayn exhales through his nose shortly. He doesn’t want Niall to take this the wrong way. “No, I know that. But I just don’t want you out there—”

"Doin’ what? Earnin’ a livin’? I’m not some incapable cripple, I can do it."

The hand that’s placed on his knee suddenly feels _mis_ placed by the sudden tension filling the room. He draws it back, fitting it through his other hand instead.

Then he brings it up to his hair and runs his fingers through it, “I _know_ , and I’m not sayin’ you can’t, okay? I only want what’s best for you and—”

"Yeah, I know ya do." Niall cuts him off again and Zayn can sense the suppressed, underlying anger that’s built up in him from the past couple of weeks. "I know you wanna be the person that cares after me and lets me have a secure life but you don’t have to, is what I’m sayin’. Money doesn’t mean shit to me, as long as I’ve got you I’ll be sweet."

Zayn takes in a breath. He thinks back to Daniel - thinks back to when they left him near the dumpster and how he looked like he belonged there. He thinks about how Niall was too broke to find a place of his own. Thinks about how he had to pay with something other than money. _Money doesn’t mean shit_ , yeah, but look at where that got you.

"And you’ll have me for as long as I’m alive." Zayn says, truthfully. "But trust me, it’ll be easier if I worked and you didn’t have a care in the world. I just - I wanna make sure you’re safe. And happy."

"Oh? That’s ironic, ‘cause y’know what _doesn’t_ make me happy?" Niall asks, his frown becoming more evident, his tone becoming more firm. "Me stayin’ at home doin’ absolute shit all while my boyfriend goes out each ‘n’ every day, breakin’ his fuckin’ back for me, makin’ me feel guilty as fuck and like a fuckin’ hopeless piece of shit, yeah? _That’s_ what makes me unhappy."

Zayn feels it like a stab of forty knives in his chest at once. He grits his teeth together and holds Niall’s gaze for a few more seconds before dropping it to the floor as he shakes his head.

"Don’t you dare talk about yourself that way."

"Well, it’s the truth, innit? Liam told me I should keep this shit to meself but fuck it, honestly, I’m not some fifties housewife who stays at home cookin’ and cleanin’ for the rest of her life—"  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Niall, you don’t get it, do ya?” Zayn snaps, his fist pounding onto the ceramic bench top with a ‘bang’. “I couldn’t stress to ya enough about how much I need to do this for you. If you were away from me for five hours a day or more then I’d be pacin’ around here fuckin’ worryin’ my arse off, wonderin’ whether or not you’re alright, wonderin’ if, God forbid, someone like mother _fucking_ Daniel hasn’t taken you and messed you up like he did!”

"But that _won’t_ happen!"

"How can you know for sure?!"

"Because now I’ve got you!"

Zayn falls speechless at that. He watches Niall, how his nostrils are flared in anger and how his eyes are burned into Zayn’s like fire. Then his eyes flicker to the front door, his expression softening immediately.

"Uh, hello?"

Zayn turns around to find Harry and Louis waiting hesitantly, a cautious look on both their faces.

The burning in Zayn’s body dwindles a little but it’s still present inside him. Without the anger being the first thing on his mind he starts to notice the wetness that’s formed on the insides of both his eyes. He attempts to blink it away furiously.

Harry and Louis step into the apartment and Louis closes the door. “Zayn, mate, you alright?”

Zayn nods automatically. “‘M good. How’re you both?”

Louis crosses the room with a half-genuine smile and Harry stays hovering at the door, unable to mask his concern like Louis.

"Good, mate, good." Louis says, cheerful. He turns his attention to Niall. Zayn keeps his eyes on the floor. "How’s it goin’, Neil? Haven’t seen you both in a while."

"Good, man." He replies as normal as he can muster. "Wanna beer?"

The offer sends a shrill down Zayn’s spine. And although he knows it’s not directed at him, it still makes his skin itch and his throat crave.

"It’s one in the afternoon." Harry says from the other side of the room. Zayn’s got his head down but he can still feel the glare Louis shoots Harry’s way.

Niall opens the fridge, “Suit yourself.”

Zayn feels an arm wrap around his shoulder as Niall walks towards the television. He smells Louis’ cologne and it hits him how much he’s missed it. Missed _him_. He leans into his touch and wraps an arm around his middle. Louis squeezes him softly.

"Wanna talk?" Louis asks quietly, pulling back to look at Zayn in the eye.

Zayn nods. “Need a smoke first.”

He turns around, away from Louis but Louis manages to wrap his arm around him again anyway. Zayn doesn’t complain.

He feels the tears start to form at the back of his eyes again as he recites the volume of his voice that was aimed at Niall. It’s ironic how a discussion about how much he wanted to _protect_ Niall ended in a way that probably hurt him instead.

He steps in front of Louis when they reach to his bedroom, Louis’ arm dropping from Zayn’s shoulder so they can fit through the doorway separately. He sits down at the top of his bed as Louis closes the door.

"So, mate, what’s goin’ on?" Louis asks, not attempting to hide his concern at all now.

Zayn ignores him for the minute, opening up his bedside table drawer and searching through it instead. He knows he threw out his last pack of weed but he was _sure_ that he still had some cigarettes left.

He feels the mattress dip beside him, hears Louis sigh. Zayn moves his things around every which way, urgent to find his packet.

"If it makes you feel any better, Harry and I had a fight over the weekend, too." Louis continues, Zayn paying no mind. "Of course he caved in first, always does, to be honest. Needs to harden up, that boy."

Zayn lifts up a small book, one that he hasn’t gotten around to reading, and lets out a small sound of victory when he spots the packet he was looking for. He yanks it out and opens it - only to find it empty.

" _Fuck_ ," Zayn mutters under his breath. Why in God’s name is there an empty packet in his house? False sense of hope, that is.

"What are you looking for, lad?" Louis asks, eyebrows pinching together. He looks at Zayn’s hand to see what he’s holding and Louis rolls his eyes. "Cigs, are you kidding me? No need to stress, mate, got some right here."

Louis shoves his hand into the pocket of his hooded jumper and takes out a small pouch of tobacco and papers. Zayn cocks an eyebrow, why Louis has ‘make-it-yourself cigarettes’, Zayn will never know.

But Louis seems to read Zayn’s expression clearly. “It’s healthier, or something.” He says. “Did you want me to roll it?”

"Nah, it’s cool." Zayn says, flashing him a useless fake smile.

He takes the two pouches from Louis’ hands and shifts back onto the bed so he can place them firmly on his lap. He brings out one of the papers and starts to fill it with the tobacco.

"So, was it, like, a big fight?" Louis tries, his voice wary.

Zayn shrugs, “Biggest one we’ve had, so.”

He places enough tobacco into the paper and takes out the twigs within it. It’s _so_ much easier just to buy them pre-made.

"Y’know, Zaynie," Louis begins as he lies down on the bed, arms stretched out, "arguments are what keep relationships stable. And be _fore_ you question it, I’ll tell you why." Zayn remains quiet and begins to roll his cigarette between his fingertips. "A relationship requires arguments here and there because the make-up sex is magnificent."

Zayn scoffs. His tongue pauses as it sits on his bottom lip, ready to lick the strip of paper.

Louis laughs at himself and sits up. “But, seriously, it’s important to have these sorts of bickers because when they mend it proves to both of you that you’re willing to fix whatever’s been broken. Makes both of you realise what it’s like to almost lose each other, and also makes both of you realise how much you don’t want to see the other one act that way again.” Louis’ voice surrounds Zayn’s ears and Zayn wants to hug him again. “It’s vital, you see. So don’t take it as a loss, yeah?”

Zayn looks at him and he sighs graciously. “I love you, Lou.”

"Oh, mate, c’mon." He says, pulling a face at him but pulls him into a hug anyway. "Such a sap, you are."

"Shut up," Zayn smiles, playing with the dart between his fingers.

⋆

Louis doesn’t ask questions when they’re out on the balcony. Instead, he fills Zayn in on what he and Harry have been doing since they haven’t seen Zayn in a while. It’s a great distraction, and it makes Zayn laugh effortlessly at Louis’ stories.

It’s still somewhere in the afternoon, past noon and a couple of hours or something before dusk. Louis’ cigarette is almost finishing between Zayn’s fingers and Zayn feels a lot calmer than he did a few minutes ago.

"Want another one?" Louis asks, finishing his own cigarette. Zayn shakes his head.

"No, thanks. I think one’s enough."

Louis raises both his brows, “Really? Haven’t heard that one before.”

He’s smiling but Zayn knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, lately I haven’t been smoking much at all, actually. That’s weird, innit?”

"Not at all." Louis says, "I reckon it’s a good thing. Niall calms you down a lot, I’ve noticed." He pauses, then nudges Zayn’s side lightly, "Well, besides today, that is."

Zayn can’t help but smile. Because Niall _does_ help calm him down. He enters the same room as him and he feels lighter the moment his presence surrounds him. He gives Zayn motivation to do well, to be better, something he’s never felt before. And it’s sickening to think that maybe he’s taken all that for granted.

"So, Harry and I came ‘round in hopes for another movie night." Louis says, snapping Zayn out of his thoughts. "I texted Liam and he said he should be ‘round soon. You down?"

"Yeah, ‘course." Zayn says without a pause. He takes his last drag and presses what’s left of the cigarette into the ashtray. "What movies, you reckon?"

"Hmm, not sure," Louis says, turning around so his back’s against the railing, facing towards the glass door, "Harry was thinking we should watch- oh! Look at that, Liam’s home."

Zayn turns around to see Liam in the kitchen, smiling and talking to Harry and Niall who are both sitting on the couch. He feels Louis’ hand tap Zayn twice on the back, gesturing for him to step inside.

They both enter the apartment and Liam’s face lights up at Louis’ presence immediately, crossing the room to give him a hug. Zayn chances a look to Niall, who only holds his gaze for a second before turning back to Harry and saying something softly to him. It’s like a stab in the chest.

"Zayn, mate?" Liam says, brushing his hand against Zayn’s arm, voice low so only Zayn can hear. "Did you wanna come to my room for a sec?"

Zayn doesn’t need to think before he nods. He can feel the timid sensations in the air and he’s not entirely sure who it’s coming from. But when the door closes and the atmosphere of Liam’s room surrounds them both, Zayn can feel the hesitance protruding out of Liam like laser beams.

"What’s up?" Zayn asks him, trying to ease the mood. He knows Liam’s never been good with "talks", knows that he’s always gotten shy and apprehensive whenever a sensitive or serious manner has come along. And as Liam gestures for Zayn to sit on the bed and as Liam stays standing, his hands fitting together as he lets out a deep sigh, Zayn starts to get a little nervous, too.

"Hope you realise, now, that this was the best thing to do." He begins, tone firm. He stands directly in front of Zayn, waiting for an answer. There’s no question to what Liam means when he says "the best thing".

Zayn leans back on his palms and scrunches his face up a little, “ _Well_ \- I _could_ ’ve just asked for fewer hours…”

"No, that wouldn’t have helped." Liam says, his hand finding a bunch of material from his own shirt, kneading it in his palm. "You _know_ that wouldn’t have helped."

He starts pacing slowly, backwards and forwards in front of Zayn. Zayn wants to stand up and stop him, just pull him into a hug and stop Liam from _worrying_ all the time. But he knows Liam has to get this out, and by the way the emotion builds up in his throat, Zayn knows this has been playing on his mind all day.

"It actually _scared_ me, Zayn." He says weakly, licking his lips as he looks up at the ceiling. "Looking at you just made me think - made me remember how you were." He stops pacing and stands directly in front of Zayn again. He spots the wetness around Liam’s eyes. "You’ve probably locked it away somewhere but it’s impossible for me to block it out. Those years were the hardest years of my life - seeing you like that." He shakes his head, swallowing what’s choked up in his throat. "I couldn’t let it happen again; no way in hell could I let it."

"Liam," Zayn sighs, standing up to wrap his arms around his best friend. He presses a kiss to Liam’s cheek and hugs him tightly. "Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, Li. Please know that."

And it’s true. With Liam by his side, with Niall in his life, with his sister in contact and with his two closest friends in the next room, he couldn’t be more grateful.

⋆

Harry’s sitting on Louis’ lap, Niall’s sitting next to them and Liam’s next to the couch, lounging on a recently bought bean-bag that Zayn’s never noticed before.

Zayn, from the kitchen as he dials the pizza place in his phone, frowns at the bean-bag sceptically, “When did ya get that?”

Liam turns his head around to face him, “When you were on your little holiday.”

It’s a joke and everyone laughs. He doesn’t hear Niall’s voice, though.

He orders their regular pizzas. Crossing over to the fridge, he asks them all if they’d like a glass of coke.

Three yes’s are heard and Zayn knows exactly who said it. He swallows deeply and waits for a fourth response. When he doesn’t get one, he clears his throat.

"Niall?"

Niall raises the beer he’s holding up to Zayn’s view, not turning around. “I’m right, mate.”

Zayn feels it like a punch to the face. _Mate_ \- something Zayn hated to hear out of Niall’s mouth, something that classifies the two of them as “mates” and nothing else. He remembers how they’d refer to each other as that _before_ they would share kisses and beds and hold hands underneath tables - but not now.

"Right." Zayn mutters under his breath. He shuts the fridge door, forgetting about the coke, and walks up to the couch. He stands on Liam’s side, looks directly at Niall and ignores the wondering looks of his friends. "Niall." He says, determined.

Niall tears his eyes away from the television slowly, as though what’s on the screen is _so_ much better than the man that’s asking for his attention. Zayn notices his grip tighten on the beer bottle once their eyes lock.

"Come with me." He tells Niall, cocking his head towards the bedroom.

"Actually, Zayn, I’m pretty interested in what’s goin’ on—"

" _Now_ , Niall." Zayn demands.

He watches as all sarcasm and superiority disappears from Niall’s face. Without waiting for a response, Zayn makes a move towards their room.

Once in, he doesn’t shut the door behind him. Instead, waits in the middle of the room for Niall to enter. He’ll wait all night if he has to, he doesn’t mind.

Truth is, he knows that the tension and unresolved arguments will only play on their minds all night. Neither of them will enjoy themselves and – actually – Zayn would much rather paper cut his entire body and jump into a pool full of lemon juice than know that Niall’s mad at him.

Though, soon enough, he hears footsteps coming towards the room. Nobody’s talking from the lounge room, he notices.

Niall appears at the doorway, without the bottle in his hand. He’s looking at Zayn hesitantly, as though he’s sort of expecting what’s happening but scared of the unknown all the same.

"Shut the door," Zayn says, tone still strong. "Please." He adds.

Niall closes the door behind him and leans on it, waiting for Zayn to talk first.

"I’m sorry." He admits, blurting it out – throwing it into the wide open like a sling-shot. "For everything, y’know? For failing you, for disagreeing with you, for gettin’ mad at you, for just- fuckin’ everythin’, yeah? I _hate_ knowin’ that you’re mad at me and, like, I know I fucked up big time. Do whatever you wanna do, get a job, move out, travel the world - do it. I won’t be, like, the most supportive of it ‘cause - you know, but I won’t ever stop you. I know you’re only lookin’ out for me and I _love_ you for that, yeah? I’m jus’ really sorry, Ni."

He wants to close the distance and just hold Niall in his arms for a little while. Maybe even climb into bed and spend the evening there instead. His eyes flick up from the floor to Niall and his stomach flips when he sees Niall’s eyes already on him, looking the most apologetic and guilty he’s ever looked.

Niall breathes in deeply and sighs, the sound filling the entire room. Zayn waits for him to talk, to either reject his apology and slam the door in his face like his mother did, or to forgive him and tell him to never do what he did again.

Instead, Niall crosses the room without a word and wraps his arms around Zayn’s middle, his cheek pressing against Zayn’s chest. Zayn wraps him up instinctively, squeezing him that little but tighter, his chin resting on top of Niall’s head.

“‘M sorry.” Niall eventually says, not moving from his position. “I think your yellin’ sorta just… brought back bad memories, y’know? The last person to raise his voice at me like that—”

"I’m sorry." Zayn says again, kissing the top of Niall’s head, unable to hear the end of Niall’s sentence.

"I think it just made me react the same way that I did when it _was_ him." Niall tells him, lifting up his head from Zayn’s chest, letting their eyes meet.

"I want to make you happy." Zayn says, letting his fingers brush against the softness of Niall’s dimly lit cheeks. "Can I do that, Niall?"

"Yes, Zayn." Niall replies with a smile. "I love you."

The words flow through him like an aid to his metaphorical wounds - the dagger to his chest, the bruise to his face - and although he’s felt those words in many ways other than through the sound of Niall’s voice, it still shoots through him like a dash of silk calming his every muscle.

"I love you so much, Niall." Zayn whispers, cupping both his cheeks with his hands, bringing him in for a kiss.

⋆

Empty pizza boxes and glasses litter the floor. Harry and Louis have switched places about five times during this movie. It’s one that Liam picked out, an action-filled film starring Bruce Willis. Zayn’s not really into it if he’s honest – _especially_ when he’s got Niall on his lap, constantly teasing him by moving around so much.

Zayn ends up securing his hands firmly on Niall’s hips to stop him from unintentionally grinding.

"Oh! Guys, watch this part." Liam suddenly springs to life from his bean bag. "This bit's important! It’s so intense; it gets me every time—"

"Well, we _would_ be able to watch it if you’d care to be quiet, Liam." Louis points out, leaning against Harry’s chest.

Liam remains silent, his eyes glued to the screen. Niall brings his hands up to cover Zayn’s lightly, his fingers sliding in between each of his own. Zayn smiles and presses a kiss to Niall’s shoulder - then a little further down his arm, and again, until he reverses his trail. He can feel Niall’s heartbeat faintly where his wrists meet Zayn’s hands and it quickens when Zayn un-expectantly kisses at Niall’s neck.

He watches as that area of skin begins to rise with goose-bumps.

"Pwoah - see? Did you _see_ that?" Liam says, falling back into his bean bag, shaking his head in amazement. "Gets me every _fucking_ time, it does."

"Plot twist of the century!" Harry exclaims. Louis frowns slightly at the loud sound close to his ear. "I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming!"

" _Right_?" Liam agrees, and Zayn looks over to the screen to see what the fuss is over, only to be met with rolling credits.

"What’d _you_ think of it, Neil?" Louis asks, teasingly. He’s got that smirk on his face, and by the way he sneaks a glance to Zayn, too, makes it obvious that he knows Niall wasn’t paying attention.

"Yeah, it was fuckin’ epic!" Niall plays along, sounding pretty convincing.

Louis raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to Zayn, “And what was your favourite part?”

Zayn flashes him a smile, “Definitely the ending, I’d say. You with me, Liam?”

"Oh, god, yeah. No two ways about it." Liam replies. Zayn and Niall high-five slyly, avoiding Liam’s eye contact but catching Louis’ directly. Louis sticks his tongue out and Harry looks confusingly between the three of them.

"Right, well, what’s the time, then?" Louis asks, climbing off of Harry to stretch out his limbs. Instead of waiting for an answer, he pulls out his phone instead and checks for himself. "It’s nine-thirty," Louis says, mid-yawn.

"Tired, Lou?" Niall asks him, stepping off of Zayn.

"Yeah, Louis, we should head off." Harry says, reaching out his arm from the couch to brush his fingers against Louis’ arm. "You’ve got a big presentation tomorrow, remember?"

Louis groans in remembrance, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Kill me now.”

Liam crawls over to the DVD player and takes out the disk. Zayn picks up the pizza boxes as Niall collects the glasses while Louis and Harry end up snogging on the couch.

"I do feel sorry for Liam." Niall says when he and Zayn are both in the kitchen. Zayn looks over to where Louis and Harry are kissing and to where Liam’s looking at them with an expression that’s mixed between disgust and betrayal.

Zayn can’t help but laugh, “True, being a fifth wheel must suck.”

"Spare tire, you mean."

"Hey," Liam calls, a pout occurring on his lips, "I’m not a _spare tire_."

Zayn goes to tell him what it means but Louis beats him to it, taking a break from Harry’s mouth.

"Liam, love, a spare tire is someone in the group that comes to the rescue when someone falls flat, you know? Someone that keeps the car running even after it’s hit a bumpy road. So - if you think about it - you’re sorta like the hero."

Zayn will forever be amazed at Louis’ improvisation skills and the ability to persuade anybody he meets. Although, to be fair, that was quite a believable definition.

"Oh," Liam says, his entire being softening, his cheeks developing a dark red. " _Guys_ , thank you. I do try. I’ve always wanted to be a hero, you know."

"You’ve always been a hero in my books, Liam." Zayn says, packing the dishwasher with the empty glasses.

"Woo!" Liam calls out in victory. "Now all I need is a cape and a mask."

"Alright, well, before you all start doing some _freaky role-playing_ , Harry and I are gonna head off."

They say their good-bye’s and Louis brings Zayn into a longer-than-necessary hug, ending it with a small threat that he will attach Zayn’s hand to his penis with super-glue while he sleeps if he disappears for as long as he did again. Zayn promises to see him sometime next week.

The apartment falls into a sense of serenity after the couple leave. The echoed sounds of birds from outside are heard, talking to each other in the night. It’s completely black out, with the moon hardly noticeable with all the clouds covering it.

"Reckon it’ll rain tomorrow?" Niall asks from behind Zayn, placing his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

"Mm, most likely." He says, enjoying the new warmth that’s now pressed to his back. "You ready for bed?"

Niall hums in his ear, and then kisses once underneath Zayn’s jawline before heading towards the bedroom, “Well, hurry on, then.”

⋆

"Shit, did I ever wear this while livin’ ‘ere?" Niall asks, repulsed at the tenth shirt he’s picked out from their wardrobe.

Zayn looks it over, not recognising the orange floral in Niall’s hand, “No way.”

They’re sorting out their clothes; since Liam had pointed out that they’ve got to be able to fit _both_ of their wardrobes in one. It used to be working fine, until it ended up being too squished that all their coat hangers tangled and all their folded garnets were shoved in their drawers in order to fit. Zayn thinks Niall’s thrown out about half the things he came here with.

He flicks out a pair of skinny jeans and holds it up to his waist, “God, when do I _ever_ wear skinnies like these anymore, honestly.” Niall shakes his head at himself and chucks the pair over to the ‘throw away’ pile he’s created on the bed.

"I wear skinnies - what size are they?" Zayn asks him, moving to look at the jeans.

Niall gives him a once-over while shaking his head, “They’d be way too big for you, trust me.”

Zayn shrugs, “Worth a try.”

He goes to pick up the pair until something catches his eye. His phone on his bedside table lights up, then starts to vibrate to indicate a receiving call.

He crosses over to it and his stomach flips when he sees the caller I.D.

He turns to Niall, “It’s Waliyha.”

Niall widens his eyes then gestures towards the ringing phone hurriedly, “Then pick it up!”

Zayn disconnects it from the charger and slides to answer. He takes a deep breath before bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, Waliyha. What’s goin’ on?”

" _I’ve got_ such _exciting news, Zayn_!" She tells him, her voice happy and inviting in his ear. Niall looks at him, trying to decipher their conversation by watching Zayn’s expressions carefully.

"Yeah?" Zayn says, automatically smiling at the sound of her voice. "And what’s that?"

" _A friend from school asked me to go on a little holiday with her family and guess where we’re going_!"

Zayn breathes in and looks at Niall, “Where?” He asks, though he already knows the answer.

" _London_!" She announces, a squeal coming out afterwards. " _We should totally meet up when I’m there, yeah_?"

"Yeah, yes! Of course." Zayn replies, unable to tone down the huge grin now on his face. He covers the mouthpiece slightly as Niall gets closer, itching to know what’s happening. "She’s visiting here," He informs and Niall opens his mouth, his arms flying up to the air.

" _Oh, and it’s absolutely imperative that you bring that boyfriend of yours_." She says.

"Niall?" He asks, and Niall’s eyes brighten at the mention.

" _Yes, Niall. Well, unless you’ve moved on since the last time we spoke_?"

"No, no, Niall’s still around."

“‘Course I am,” Niall says, straightening his back, “I’ll always be here.”

They talk for a while - organising a set time and place to meet up, filling her in on what’s she to expect when she meets his boyfriend, and if _she’s_ got a boyfriend (she doesn’t) - and it all sends an exciting shiver down Zayn’s spine. It’s almost like a shine of light, as though through Waliyha, he can finally reconnect with the family he so selfishly lost all that time ago.

And when they hang up, Niall slips his arms around Zayn’s waist as he sits beside him on the bed. He kisses him lightly on the shoulder, giving him that sense of reassurance once again, telling him that everything will be alright.

Because even with Zayn’s ridiculous need to burn himself out in order to support the one that he loves, and despite the constant fear that with Niall out of his sight, he’ll disappear forever – maybe Zayn will get that job as a gardener, and maybe Niall will work at the local pub down the road. And maybe, regardless of their contrasting differences and little money, they’ll move out into a house of their own and be undoubtedly fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh golly, the actual end!! I can't believe it's finished :O thank you to every one for leaving kudos and comments it means the absolute world!
> 
> This is, no doubt, the first ever Ziall fic i've ever written & actually the first Ziall fic I've ever read, too. Oops. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and I wish you all well! Xxxxx
> 
> ♡ [tumblr](http://louiswmalik.tumblr.com/) ♡


End file.
